The Burnouts
by Hamliet
Summary: When Illumi leaves the Zoldyck manor for a rickety old house occupied by Hisoka, Chrollo Lucilfer, and Chrollo's group of friends, he expects a hellish semester. However, the more he gets drawn into Hisoka's schemes, Chrollo's frustrations with a red-eyed boy in his class, and Machi's secret, he starts to realize hell might be where he came from instead. College AU.
1. Prologue: The Fall

_Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall_

 _—William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure_

* * *

A suit wouldn't mask anything, but it would at least deign him the veneer of respect. Maybe. If someone like him could conjure anything like respect anymore.

There was no sun out, not today. The hearing was scheduled for the afternoon, because of course those bastards would want to drag this out, want him to go not just a sleepless night but a sleepless day, all with anxiety crunching his skull. One last round of torture, of revenge, for them to subject him to. Rich pricks.

He combed his hair, bristles digging into his scalp. He pressed deeper, wanting to leave hidden bruises.

 _What am I doing?_

He pulled the comb away, pressing it into his lips. He bit down on the plastic.

 _I… hate myself._

He was not used to such a thought, but the feeling was paradoxically familiar, and cold.

He shook his head, placing the comb down on the dresser in this strange room.

He walked to the security office on campus. They checked his ID, and his pockets, like he was some kind of criminal. Which, now, he was. Well, he'd been for a long time. But everyone knew now.

The march across campus was awkward, with people staring and whispering. He normally wouldn't care, but that cold still permeated him through the suit, and he hated himself for being unable to let go of the fact that he did, in fact, care.

He held his head high. A crow cawed in the distance. The buildings, brick and stone, were cast in shadows, and yet he still didn't want to leave.

 _How did I lose everything?_

And he knew the answer. A quest to have everything, collecting it all, cradling everything he thought he wanted to his chest, and in the end, he found his arms exhausted and bruised and blistered, knuckles throbbing, and in his hands was—nothing.


	2. Chapter 1: Greed

**Thanks for reading! This chapter is a little... world-buildey I guess? Also, this fic as a whole will be dealing with child abuse: nothing worse than canon for the Zoldycks, but I wanted to warn just in case. There is a section describing an incident later in this chapter.  
**

* * *

 _You will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again._

 _—Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov_

* * *

"He has no idea what he's getting into, does he?"

Chrollo leaned back in his desk chair, boots resting on his desk. He folded his arms behind his head. "He's hardly a naive rich boy, Machi."

Machi scowled. As usual, her pink hair looked as if she hadn't brushed it. "Any friend of Hisoka's I am immediately suspicious of."

"I wouldn't have allowed him to live here if I didn't think the same and thoroughly interview him," pointed out Chrollo. Bitterness stung his throat at the mention of Hisoka. Outside his window, clouds rolled in.

The semester was about to start, and everyone had returned to the rickety old house Chrollo and his friends rented one block from campus. Well, Hisoka had returned. It wasn't as if any of them had anywhere to go over the break besides Hisoka, who gave no explanations. He just appeared and disappeared at will. Chrollo doubted he was visiting doting parents like other college students.

Their new tenant was arriving just now. He did have parents. A unique trait in this house. The past three years, Chrollo had bribed inspectors not to come because it would surely be condemned. But Shizuku and Franklin assured him it was actually livable. And they didn't have many problems besides plumbing spurting at random on occasion, a broken banister, and three cracked windows. Oh, and a broken floorboard in the library, but they all knew not to step on it. Chrollo had money to keep them afloat. Or rather, he procured it by any means necessary. Trying to repair it all would just be greedy.

"If Hisoka causes trouble this year, can I kill him and bury him out back?" Machi asked.

"If I get to do the honors." Chrollo picked up a pen and clicked it over and over again. He was not at all happy about Hisoka still living here in the house Chrollo had… acquired. But he had no choice and no recourse to kick him out unless he wanted to hire some scumbag lawyer and open the house up for inspection.

"I can't believe that prick wouldn't even switch rooms," Machi said.

"He wants to antagonize me." Chrollo bet it would be no time before Hisoka started taking lover after lover. Or, person-to-be-used after person-to-be-used. Love had nothing to do with it. Not for either of them, but sleeping with Hisoka had been fun while it lasted. And then it blew up in his face.

"I can show him to his room," Machi said reluctantly. "I guess." She sounded remiss about helping anyone connected to Hisoka.

"Thanks." Chrollo heaved a sigh. He dropped his boots onto the wooden floor with a thud. "I guess I should get my books for the semester."

"Good luck." Machi turned and left. Downstairs, he heard the sound of Shizuku vacuuming. A mechanical engineering major, Shizuku had created the vacuum and named it Blinky.

Chrollo shrugged into his coat, the one he found at a thrift store for less than half of what it was worth, and which he hadn't paid for at all. He'd had it since he was twelve and he slept in it more nights in his life than not. He only hadn't needed to since obtaining the papers for the house they lived in now.

He left the house, the door creaking as if the hinges were pleading with God himself for replacing. Well, God didn't care to answer and neither did Chrollo.

The other students liked to comment that the house looked haunted. But that was what drew Chrollo to it. It was well over a hundred years old, huge and clearly originally two houses, unevenly built and with history and fate embedded into each nail. If there were ghosts, so much the better, but Chrollo had yet to see one.

"Yo, Danchou!" Uvogin waved as he headed up towards the house, his arm around Shalnark. Chrollo nodded.

He made it to campus, ignoring the perfectly neat brick dorms that he couldn't afford. He sauntered towards the bookstore, where he charmed Neon, the clerk, into not realizing he was leaving with books he hadn't paid for.

"Oh, so you're taking Russian Literature," commented a voice behind him. "How interesting. I didn't think a gutter rat like you would be interested in such a high art."

Chrollo spun on his heel. "Excuse me?" He kept his tone pleasant.

The man's gaze went to his forehead, to the cross tattoo he got when he was sixteen. "You hardly look the type to attend this university."

Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou. A political science major, he was the son of one of the professors and as much of a sleaze as his father, according to rumor. And that made him very typical of a college frat boy, and that made him boring.

Chrollo yawned. "In contrast to you. You very much look the part. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Oh, say, weren't you just telling me you were taking Russian Lit too, Kurapika?" called Tserriednich.

Chrollo stiffened. He peered past Tserriednich, to where a blond boy with a sullen expression and arms laden with legally bought books glanced over at them.

"I am," confirmed Kurapika, though he looked as if he was going to vomit at the thought. "Unless I can switch out, which _suddenly_ I have the urge to do."

"Shame for all those books you just bought," Chrollo said sweetly.

"Oh, you two know each other?" asked Tserriednich, a smirk spreading across his face. His gaze lingered on Kurapika with a gleam Chrollo recognized and which disgusted him.

"Shocking," Chrollo replied. "I have to get back to my house. The one I _own."_ He nodded at them. "See you in class, Kurapika."

Kurapika muttered something like "not if I can help it" which was slightly less spicy than the "see you in hell" Chrollo had been hoping for.

 _I'm surrounded by enemies._

Fate wasn't going to be terribly easy on him this semester, it seemed.

Well, he'd never turned down a challenge.

* * *

Kurapika stomped into his new on-campus apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Be nice to the door!" squawked his roommate, Leorio. He'd spent the morning mourning over his wallet for all his biology textbooks. Since he was pre-med, every textbook cost a ridiculous amount, and they were only in their second year at school.

"Kurapika?" asked a voice. His cousin, Pairo, appeared. Hanzo waved behind him.

Their two other roommates—whom Kurapika didn't really know very well but were looking for apartment-mates at the same time—were arguing over football. Or really, Knuckle was arguing while Shoot looked pained.

"I'm fine," Kurapika said. "But you'll never believe which bastard is in my Russian Lit class." And it was the class he was looking forward to most! It was only offered every other year! He didn't want to wait until his senior year to take it, so—

 _I'm fucked. I can't switch out._

He groaned.

"Honestly there are a lot of dicks on campus and even more people you don't like," said Leorio. "I need a name because I have no idea."

Kurapika snorted. He set his books down on the simple kitchen table and plugged in the electric kettle. This called for tea. "Chrollo Lucilfer."

Pairo sucked in his breath. Chrollo was, after all, the reason they weren't quite roommates any more. It'd taken convincing for Pairo to even agree to share the apartment. Shame pressed into Kurapika's shoulders.

"Damn," mused Leorio. "You gonna be okay?"

"Haven't got a choice." He was used to squashing his feelings anyways. Or, trying to, at any rate. Kurapika rummaged through the cabinet, finding his favorite chipped mug. His parents gave it to him when he was sixteen.

But they died last year. He spent the summer with Leorio, at Leorio's family's place, because he had no place left to return to. Kurapika ran his thumb over the chip, wishing an edge would prick his finger. It didn't. It was too dull. He scowled.

A knock on the door. "Melody!" shrieked Leorio. "How are you? It's good to see you and—"

Kurapika glanced over his shoulder. A music major, Melody shared one of his general required classes his first semester, and they'd wound up unlikely friends. She'd been disfigured in a car accident years ago, and when his parents—she and Leorio and Pairo were the glue that helped keep him together. He rubbed the chip in the mug again.

"How's your apartment?" asked Leorio.

"Nice," Melody responded. "It's me, Komugi, and Palm Siberia. Palm's a freshman, but I guess she—"

"That explains why I don't know her." Leorio brightened. "Is she pretty?"

Melody rolled her eyes.

"I don't remember Komugi," said Kurapika.

"I do," said Pairo. "She's blind. Completely. Even more than me." He touched his eyes. "She's very nice."

Kurapika nodded.

"She's got a boyfriend," said Melody. "Meruem."

"I thought he was a frat boy."

"He was, but now he's living in an apartment across the hall, with Pitou, Pouf, and Youpi."

"Well, fuck," said Leorio. "I'm not dealing with their parties every night."

"He seems to have calmed down. Must be Komugi." Melody smiled. "Palm seems—interesting. She has a massive crush on Professor Knov."

 _Yikes_. Kurapika pulled out another mug for Melody, and honey from the fridge, since she liked her tea sweet.

"How was your break, Kurapika?" Melody wanted to know.

"Fine." Kurapika smiled, and in that moment he knew that all his friends knew he was lying, but none of them would call him on it. It wasn't Leorio's fault, or his family's, or—or anything. Or anyone.

It was the universe's, for stealing his parents. He couldn't stop wanting their arms around him, wanting his mother gushing over his grades like Leorio's, or scolding him even, his father trying to talk to him about girls, anything. Not that Kurapika was really into girls. And not that he'd ever had a chance to tell them that.

It'd been so long since he heard their voices. He retreated to his room, making an excuse. He clutched the cup of tea to his chest and pulled out his phone, listening to their voices again, in his voicemails. He only had three saved, but they told him they loved him in them. They told him they wanted him to call.

 _I want to call._

 _I don't know how to reach you._

 _I can't reach you. You're gone._

The fact that he'd had to see Chrollo today just rubbed salt in a festering wound, one that hadn't healed and one that he wasn't sure he even wanted to heal.

* * *

Illumi checked his phone. Three missed phone calls and five texts. All from Mom. He texted her back.

 _Just got here & dropped Milluki off at the dorms. Will call later._

He grabbed the only bag he had and walked up the winding driveway. The house rose in front of him, towering and uneven. A tangled forest rose behind it. It looked like a dump, but he had no other options besides moving in here for the year.

He knocked on the door, folding his arms. A girl with a messy pink ponytail answered. "You Illumi Zoldyck?"

"I am," he said.

"Machi Komacine." She stepped back. "Hisoka's out now."

Illumi was not surprised. "I see."

Two samurai swords hung over the fireplace in the dingy living room. Nobunaga Hazuma examined one of them. He gave a lackluster wave. Illumi nodded at him. A woman with a severe bob and a hooked nose sat legs crossed in an overstuffed armchair, studying a psychology book.

"You're on the third floor," Machi said, leading Illumi to a narrow, winding staircase. "Each floor has its own bathroom, but each floor shares it."

Illumi could only imagine sharing a bathroom with Hisoka. Well, it was only for a year.

"The basement has four bedrooms. Nobunaga, Bonolenov Ndongo, Kortopi, and then Shalnark and Uvogin share a room because we needed more help with rent. Not that I think you'll have a concern with that," she added.

"I won't," Illumi confirmed.

"First floor has the kitchen and the appliances won't electrocute you, promise, the living room and dining area, and then down the hallway off the living room is three bedrooms for Phinks Magcub, Feitan Porter, and Franklin Bordeau. Second floor has a library but it's mostly used for storage and the books aren't useful unless you're into literature, and Paku, Shizuku Murasaki, and I have rooms there." Machi gestured down a hallway, walls painted what might have been mint green once. She pushed open another door, heading up an even steeper flight of stairs, not winding this time. "And the third floor's here. Just three bedrooms and a bathroom. Chrollo's got the largest one and Hisoka's is next to the bathroom. Yours is here." She pushed open a door.

Illumi noticed an even smaller flight of stairs. "Where does that go?"

"The attic," said Machi. "Storage."

Illumi nodded. He entered his bedroom. It was small and cramped, but livable for a year, certainly.

"Is that all you brought?" asked Machi, nose wrinkling as she took in his one suitcase.

"All I need," Illumi responded, opening it to unpack.

"All right then. I'm off." Machi turned away.

Illumi didn't bother to say goodbye. He unpacked clothing and textbooks, the ones he'd gotten in advance. It was part of his desperate attempt to set a good example for Milluki, because Dad spent the break ranting over Milluki's lack of studying.

 _"I got straight As my first year!" Milluki protested. "I will next semester, too, Dad, you'll see!"_

Illumi studied his image in a cracked mirror hanging next to one small window. His hair was even longer now. He pulled out his textbooks, preparing to study.

He should call his parents first. Mom would be worrying.

"Illumi!" she cried the moment she answered. "Are you safe?"

"Of course," he answered. "The house is rather run-down, but certainly liveable for a year." Or perhaps two, since Illumi had two left. But he refused to commit to anything beyond that first year. Dad might want him transferred, or offer him a role in the company that would require an apartment between campus and here.

"I'm glad to hear that." Mom sighed. "Illumi, dear, please make sure to check up on Milluki. Dad was not pleased with his attitude the past few weeks."

Milluki had done everything they'd asked, when they'd asked, and done it well, but his brother was lazy and wouldn't go above and beyond like Illumi would. His loyalty to the Zoldyck family was hardly in question, but if he planned to become the head of Zoldyck Industries' coding department he would have to put in more work like Illumi did. "Okay," he promised.

"Your father wants to talk to you."

"Okay," he said again. His heart leaped. Illumi straightened even where he stood in this old room, bed pressed against a wall and bookcases empty save for his textbooks, closet door perfectly shut with his clothes inside, no curtains and certainly no posters or anything of the sort decorating the walls. Just this cracked mirror.

"Illumi," Dad's voice sounded serious.

"Yes?"

"Killua's been getting restless. Your mother doesn't approve, but I worked it out with him that he could spend a few days with you in a few weeks, just to get the feel of college life. He's never satisfied with just doing as he's told, that boy."

"Ah, of course," Illumi said. A smile spread across his lips. Killua was seventeen and about to graduate. He excelled in his homeschooling studies, and Illumi had been privileged to sit in on discussions between Dad and his grandfather about the boy's promise. He could even be the next CEO of Zoldyck Industries. And Illumi loved Killua. He was the brother Illumi was tasked with keeping an eye on, on teaching and helping through their studies when they were younger. Illumi snuck Killua coffee during their many nights spent studying, the ones where they weren't allowed to sleep. They weren't supposed to have coffee either, but Illumi didn't think it would harm Killua. He was too smart. And it hadn't. Killua was still good.

 _"Illumi, please let me sleep," Killua had begged on the third night they had to spend like that in a row. Killua was five, Illumi eight._

And Illumi relented, and then Mom screamed that he was a disgrace—Illumi was—and Dad broke his arm.

After that, Illumi smuggled coffee for them both.

But while Illumi was home, Killua hadn't been interested in talking to Illumi, hearing about college or anything.

" _It's good," Mom insisted. "He needs to be cold to be a CEO."_

Illumi agreed. But Killua could be cold and still spend time with him, couldn't he?

Something hit Illumi's skull. He grabbed it. A Starburst? He turned.

Hisoka leaned against the door. "Nice to see you here."

Illumi reached for a textbook. "I was about to study." He was a business management major. His parents thought it'd be the most beneficial for their company.

"So serious," teased Hisoka.

"Hmph." Illumi settled down. "They want my younger brother to visit."

"The one you actually like?"

Illumi frowned. "I love all my brothers." Alluka wasn't family. Dad said so, or he would love Alluka too. And he wasn't supposed to love people who weren't family.

He met Hisoka the year before in a mandatory art class. Hisoka was a theater major, and they teamed up to get the best grades. Despite his party-hopping, reputation, and the clown makeup adorning his cheeks, Hisoka was intelligent. Illumi respected that. And he was always looking for something to invest in. If he'd been born a Zoldyck, he would have made a good one.

"Uh-huh." Hisoka chomped down on some bungee gum, blowing a bubble.

"They want me to make sure Milluki is studying," said Illumi. "They're concerned, as we're not in the same dorm anymore."

"You should be able to go out on your own without a leash named _something—llu—something."_

Illumi scowled.

Hisoka drummed a long-nailed finger against the door frame. "So. Wanna join me at a party?"


	3. Chapter 2: Lust

_Picking up the pieces out, they left you in again_

 _Love is all you want but you're never gonna feel the same_

 _It's hard to be yourself when everyone around is changing_

 _Open up your eyes and you'll never lose yourself again_

 _~"Over and Over," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

"Whose life are you off to ruin?" groused Phinks as Hisoka bounded down the stairs. Wearing a sweat-stained shirt and his ever-present track pants, Phinks looked as boring as ever. He chugged a protein drink. Phinks's miniature sidekick—whose habit was ironically what Phinks had just accused Hisoka of—scowling in the corner of the room as he bickered with Nobunaga over utility bills or something else boring.

"My own," Hisoka responded with a wink.

"That's the truest thing you've ever said," Machi groused.

"What, you aren't coming to the party tonight?" Hisoka crooned.

"Classes start tomorrow and I've got an eight am." Machi flipped him off. "Plus, _you'll_ be there."

"Shizuku said she was going," said Nobunaga. "Uvo and Shalnark, too."

"Well, at least some people know how to have some fun in this house." Hisoka sauntered towards the door. "You coming, Illumi?"

"Sure," said Illumi.

Truthfully, Hisoka hadn't been expecting Illumi to move into this house when he'd suggested it. But Illumi surprised him, saying it was probably a good idea to venture out more on his own and pay his own bills, that it would help him prepare to lead his family business or some bullshit like that.

 _You are just as fucked up as I am, but in a different way, and I can't understand you and yet I can, and I don't like thinking._

He wondered what it would be like to kiss Illumi. The man's long hair was certainly appealing, sleek and glossy, even if his fashion was too similar to Hisoka's own for someone who wanted to be taken seriously instead of seen as a literal clown for lols.

But Illumi was useful to him, just as Hisoka was useful to Illumi. They'd met at a party, really, before they even had a class together. Hisoka's sophomore year, Illumi's freshman year. The thrower of the party was none other than Chrollo, and Hisoka was annoyed that the stupid man who was an honor student and had good looks to boot kept getting distracted by his other friends whenever Hisoka tried to flirt with him. So when Chrollo was asleep and the party was over, Hisoka decided to break into the house and get some petty revenge.

" _I believe that's called breaking and entering," said a voice behind him as Hisoka smashed one of the windows._

 _Hisoka squinted. The sun was starting to rise above the trees. "And?"_

 _A boy with long hair pried himself away from the wall. He didn't answer._

" _And what would you be doing here?" Hisoka challenged._

" _My ride is drunk. I'm stuck."_

" _Tell you what," Hisoka said. "You create a distraction so no one else will notice me, and I'll sneak in and get what I need, and then I'll give you a ride back to campus. Okay?"_

" _Seems a bit hasty when I don't even know your name." He sighed. "Fine. I need to study later and don't have time to waste."_

 _Illumi dropped a lit cigarette on a dead bush in the front lawn, terrifying Pakunoda, and Hisoka snuck in to draw a dick on Chrollo's face and then escape._

" _You are ridiculously petty," Illumi said when Hisoka told him what he'd done._

" _And you are ridiculously extra."_

But he seldom saw Illumi after that, since he was too focused on studying. Whenever they needed a favor—rare—though, Illumi would be there. Though in truth Illumi sought Hisoka out far more than Hisoka sought him out, but he needed an ally inside this stupid house for his last year. Or, really, he needed a way to get revenge, and Illumi was the perfect tool for it, and he wouldn't make it easy for Hisoka or for Chrollo.

"What do you plan to do when you graduate?" Illumi asked.

"I don't plan. I just do."

Illumi arched his eyebrows.

"Probably move to a city," said Hisoka, yawning.

"And what, exotic dance?"

"It could be interesting but I'd hate getting regulars; that'd just bore me." Hisoka winked. The pulsating bass music echoed from inside Cheetu's house.

"You—"

"I don't wanna talk about dumb stuff. I want to have fun before I have to subject myself to a schedule again." Hisoka ducked inside the door, heading straight for the beer. He didn't even like the taste, but he definitely did not want to be thinking of what Illumi kept trying to bring up.

He surveyed the crowd. The best way to start this game would be to find someone worth irritating Illumi when Hisoka started kissing them. Except everyone looked fucking boring tonight.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. Hisoka whirled around, grabbing the offender's wrist. "I don't like being touched without permission."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Don't you remember me?"

"No?"

"You said you would call and—"

"Oh." He'd probably slept with him. "Sorry, you didn't make an impression." Hisoka turned.

The man slapped the beer cup out of his hand.

"Well, now you've just wasted good beer," Hisoka said. Through he was irritated. His fist curled. A smile played with his lips. This, at least, was exciting. He felt something like a bundle of nerves in his abdomen, sizzling. He could feel the air flooding his lungs, smell the pungent drink. His nails dug into his palms. This—this was—

The man lunged, and Hisoka's high-heeled shoe rose off the ground. A kick in the balls with—

An elbow jabbed the man in the neck, knocking him to the floor. The man gagged. A designer shoe landed on the man's hand, pressing down. "Don't create a fuss."

 _Oh._ This was new. Hisoka smirked at Illumi, who pulled his hair off his neck. The man cursed, scrambling to his feet and shaking out his hand. Hisoka wondered if it'd been broken. "That was hot."

Illumi rolled his eyes. His nose wrinkled as he studied the crowd of students, most grinding against each other, gulping beer, and smoking weed without a single glance in their direction. They certainly didn't notice the man he'd hurt running away, or even getting hurt. Then again, Hisoka kind of liked having that secret knowledge that Illumi was capable of being protective and assertive. He never would have guessed from looking at him. His face was always blank.

"I'm going home," Illumi said. " _I'm_ bored."

"Already?" Hisoka was crushed.

Illumi rolled his eyes, slipping through the crowd. Hisoka scowled. _Fine_. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He jogged after him.

"I'm surprised you didn't find someone to copulate with," Illumi remarked as they strode back down the street to the house.

"I'm surprised people still use that word," Hisoka said. " _Bang_ would be more, I don't know, the common vernacular. Or—"

"Shall we consider this a contest then, for who can use the most impressive words?"

"I doth believe that thou art—"

"Dumbass," said Illumi.

Hisoka shrugged. They made it back to the house and headed up the stairs. Machi stuck her middle finger up at him and he returned the gesture.

"I can't believe you haven't guessed why I didn't find someone to _copulate_ with," Hisoka said finally, as they reached the third floor.

"I haven't put too much thought into it." Illumi reached for his doorknob.

It was now or never. Hisoka noticed no light under Chrollo's door, but there was no way their insomniac leader was asleep now. Instead, he'd be in the attic, where he could hear everything for sure.

Hisoka pressed his palms against the door frame, staring at Illumi. At his lips, really, full and pressed together.

"Nice try," said Illumi. "But I'm afraid I'm not up for _banging_ tonight." He opened the door behind him, ducked inside, and slammed the door in Hisoka's face.

 _Well,_ Hisoka thought, staring at the door. _That was not how this was supposed to go._

But hey, what was wrong with a little extra challenge?

* * *

Illumi woke early, even though he did not have class until ten. He brewed himself a cup of steaming, bitter coffee.

"You'll be late, Machi!" hollered Paku's voice. She nodded at Illumi as she grabbed a bagel from the fridge before ducking out the door.

Machi staggered into the kitchen, rolling her eyes as if to say she'd never be late. She took in Illumi. "You're up early for someone out late."

"We didn't stay long," Illumi replied, sipping the coffee. It scalded his tongue. He remembered once, during those sessions where he stayed up all night, he was caught sneaking coffee. Dad made Mom hold his mouth open, forcing him to drink the coffee before it was cool enough. He couldn't eat for a whole day, not even when Grandpa brought him ice cream.

"Mr. Party decided not to stay long? Must be good with you," Machi remarked sarcastically. She grabbed a mug and filled it with what remained of the coffee.

Illumi hadn't offered. He scowled. "It's not like that."

"You aren't fucking?" Machi arched her eyebrows.

Illumi remembered Hisoka's attempt to kiss him. He was intoxicated. And Hisoka was a huge flirt. "That's crude."

"It's Hisoka."

Illumi frowned. "Why does everyone think that we're together?"

"Because Hisoka would do anything and everything," Machi said as if it was obvious.

Illumi started out at the twisted forest behind the house. "Including everyone in this house?"

"Well, Hisoka's fucked Chrollo, as you know, and we fucked once too," Machi said. "Alcohol was involved, but it wasn't that great."

"The alcohol or the sex?" asked Illumi.

Machi looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head. "Have a good day."

Illumi finished his coffee and washed the mug. The water was cold. He wondered if that was indeed why Hisoka suggested he move into the vacancy. Well, if it was, Hisoka was in for a surprise. Illumi did not sleep around and he did not have time to waste on such carnal activities, not when he was to be earning top honors and nagging Milluki in the meantime.

Illumi went back up the stairs and brushed his teeth. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but the feeling of stinging acid wouldn't go away. Why did he have to think of that unpleasant memory today? It wasn't a big deal, and he'd certainly learned not to do it again. Except when Killua needed coffee. Because that had been before Killua was forced to stay up all night.

 _For you, I'd break all the rules_. And it hadn't hurt Killua. He was still the future CEO. And since Illumi had helped him, surely when he was, he would—

The phone rang, and Illumi reached for it. Mom. Again. "Hello?"

"Illumi!" sobbed Mom. He breaths cut in and out, sharp and hysterical.

"Mom?" Illumi asked. He dropped down onto his bed. Chrollo headed out of his own room, not glancing through Illumi's open door as he headed down the stairs.

"Killua's run away! He took—he took—that _thing_ with him!"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Illumi said.

"He left a note! He was being difficult yesterday, and I woke up this morning to see a note and that creature is not in the basement anymore!"

Illumi rose, heart pounding. "You should have sent him away." He'd suggested it long ago. But now—now wasn't the time. He had to find Killua, and Alluka, before Alluka hurt Killua as he inevitably would.

"Illumi—"

"I will find him," Illumi promised. To hell with his education. His family needed him. Killua needed him. He really needed him.

 _I don't want you to get hurt, Killua._ He couldn't bear it if that were to happen. He needed to protect his brother.

" _He looks just like Silva," stated Tsubone, one of the older employees in his father's company. Killua was a little baby, and Illumi was holding him. "The other two are so much like their mother. I have a lot more hope for the youngest one, then."_

 _Killua let out a coo and turned around, reaching for Illumi's face. And he smiled._

And then Illumi knew that something was wrong with him, at four years old. He was defective. But as long as he had Killua to smile at him, he would be—

 _I'll find him._

* * *

Kurapika sat in the back corner of his Russian Lit classroom, books stacked on his desk and arms folded as he glared at each and every person who entered the door.

Chrollo Lucilfer was, of course, exactly on time. Still clad in his ugly coat, he sauntered in and dropped down in a seat as far away from Kurapika as he could get. Kurapika stiffened his shoulders. He checked his phone.

A text from Leorio. _good luck facing satan._

Kurapika smirked. Professor Hill started the class, and Kurapika tried to pay attention. But halfway through, he became away that not only was Chrollo staring at him, but Tserriednich kept casting glances at him as well.

He did not like this. He did not want to feel like a fish in a glass bowl. Kurapika gritted his teeth. From what he could tell, the professor was an idiot. He actually had them all having to take a class during the semester and teach it, in pairs of course. How dumb.

When class ended, Kurapika scrambled to his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Are you still taking my father's political science class?" called Tserriednich, appearing in front of Kurapika.

"It conflicted with Professor Freecss' history class," said Kurapika. He didn't even bother tinging his voice with a hint of apology. He wasn't sorry. Professor Freecss' class was apparently a must-take for a history minor such as himself.

"Shame." Tserriednich clucked his tongue. "See you around, Kurapika."

"Careful of Professor Freecss," intoned a voice behind Kurapika. He whirled around. "He's a careless fool, if an interesting one." Professor Hill smiled sweetly before pushing his own way out of his classroom.

"How unprofessional," commented a voice to Kurapika's side.

 _What is this, Asshole Literature_? Kurapika resisted the urge to stomp his feet and turned to face Chrollo. "What do you want?"

Chrollo shrugged. "I wanted to warn you about your new best friend."

"Leorio?"

"Tserriednich."

"Check your facts, smart-ass. He's not my friend. He's a playboy whom I don't have time for." Kurapika weaved his way through the desks. Chrollo followed.

"Well, good," Chrollo said. "Because I've heard things from Pakunoda. He assaulted one of her friends in the psychology department."

Kurapika skidded to a stop in the hallway. Chrollo's voice was low. He turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

"Paku wasn't lying," said Chrollo, his eyes narrowed. "Consider my warning you an apology for last semester."

"That's not even related to what happened last semester," Kurapika pointed out. His heart hammered in his chest. "Did the friend go to campus police?" His eyes narrowed. "Or are you just trying to slander—"

Chrollo thrust his hands into the air. "What would I have to gain from that?"

"Using people seems to be your speciality," Kurapika informed him, stopping in front of the vending machine. He plugged in some coins. He wanted a can of coffee. "Who knows what goes on in your twisted mind?"

Chrollo glowered. "No, the friend did not go to the police. Why would she? Tserriednich's father's the head of the Poly Sci department. No one would believe her."

Kurapika blinked.

"Are you really that naive?" asked Chrollo.

"I wasn't—"

"Enjoy reading _Demons_ ," Chrollo said, tapping Kurapika's backpack. "See you later." He wandered away, almost as if he was offended Kurapika was suspicious of anything and everything that came from the man's mouth.

 _Can_ you _really be that naive?_

Kurapika shuddered. He made his way to Professor Freecss' classroom, a few minutes later and a few minutes before the professor arrived. His mind whirled.

" _He's not like that, Pairo," Kurapika had insisted._

He was.

When Kurapika left Ging's class, he hadn't absorbed anything. Not that the professor was exactly sending a very strict image of himself.

 _Meet me at the campus coffee shop?_ Leorio texted.

 _Sure_.

To his surprise, Leorio sat with three—kids. Well, high schoolers. One had dark, spiky hair, and one wild white hair. One was a girl, sandwiched between the two boys with a frightened look on her face.

"Um, hello," said Kurapika.

"Kurapika," Leorio greeted him. "This is Killua Zoldyck, Alluka Zoldyck, and Gon Freecss."

Kurapika's eyebrows lifted. _Ging Freecss's son?_

"Found them climbing the fence to get onto campus," Leorio said, as if that was something to be proud of them for. Kurapika gaped.

"My dad's not answering his phone," said Gon. "I don't live with him, anyways." He glanced at Killua and Alluka Zoldyck. "They just ran away from an abusive home, and I need to ask him to help them. He has friends in high places."

"What?" Kurapika sputtered.

"They locked her underground for years," said Killua. "I met Gon last summer at a camp—he said I could run away to his place, but I don't want his cousin to get in trouble—we can't go back there—they wouldn't let Alluka out of a basement."

Kurapika dropped down next to Leorio. His heart pounded. "Is that true?"

Alluka met his eyes for a second. She dropped them and nodded, kicking her legs up like she was a lot younger than she appeared to be.

"My parents are—well known," said Killua, swallowing. "I wanted to hold out until I was an adult next year, but I can't—do it anymore." His face crumpled.

"You have Ging as a professor," said Leorio. "When you have class—"

"I just had class with him," said Kurapika.

"Dammit."

"I have a list of his office hours," said Kurapika, digging through his backpack for the syllabus. He handed it over to Gon. "Oh, there's one in an hour."

"They need a student ID to get into the building," Leorio said. "I've got lab then."

Kurapika pressed his lips together. "Fine."

He made small talk with the kids until Leorio went to class. Tserriednich appeared but Kurapika ignored him.

"Is that a friend of yours?" inquired Killua.

"Not hardly." Kurapika turned away.

"Want to leave?" asked Killua.

Kurapika felt grateful. "Yes." Chrollo's words reverberated in his mind. He scuttled outside, exhaustion tugging down his bones. He just wanted to get home to his apartment.

"My brother goes to school here," said Killua. "Two of them. Illumi and Milluki Zoldyck."

"I don't know them," Kurapika admitted.

"Good," said Killua. "You don't want to. They'd send me back home if—" He stopped himself, curling his fists. Alluka looked scared. Killua's mannerisms towards her reminded Kurapika of how he was always protective over Pairo growing up.

 _It's my fault he hurt his eyes, anyways._

 _Is it your fault, too, in some way? Or do you just—genuinely want to take responsibility for her?_

They went to Ging's office hours when the clock rolled around, and found it flooded with students. Kurapika winced. He should leave them here—surely they'd be all set—but—

Ging turned and looked straight at them. He saw his son—whom, Kurapika had to admit—was the spitting image of him.

And he turned back to the students in front of him. He picked up his phone. Gon's beeped.

Kurapika glanced down at it.

 _I don't have time today_

Kurapika's jaw dropped. _But he's your son!_

Gon's face fell, and he looked to Killua and Alluka as if terrified. Of letting them down.

Kurapika's chest felt empty. His throat, parched, his eyes, stinging.

How did people continue to disappoint him?

 _You are…_

 _This isn't how it's supposed to work!_

He looked at Gon, his father just telling him he was too busy right here, right now, and Killua and Alluka, fleeing from abusive parents, and the black sensation consuming him was pure hatred. Killua's parents should be protecting him; Ging should shoo away all the other students, his parents should be _alive_.

 _Mom, Dad, where are you?_


	4. Chapter 3: Pride

_And we go over and over and over again_

 _Are ya lost in the past thinking what might have been?_

 _You're here and you're now, started over and then_

 _Take it over and over and over again_

 _ _~"Over and Over," Goo Goo Dolls__

* * *

Machi slung her bag over her shoulder, marching back from lab. The semester seemed as if it was going to murder for her sanity, and it was only the second week. Well, whatever. She could handle it.

She spotted the light on in the attic. Chrollo must be up there again, with his stash. He found her when she was applying for college, only to realize there was no way a homeless girl like her could afford nor get the scholarships to alleviate the price of boarding at a dorm or textbooks or anything. College just wasn't for her, or so she thought. Kakin University was the most affordable and still reputable college around.

" _I have an idea," he'd told her._

Several of them from Meteor City all helped him rob that professor. And now they were set for the next few years, set enough for Chrollo to purchase this mansion. The rest joined when they arrived to campus and put out ads. They paid rent to help with the mortgage and utilities, but it was so much less than she would be paying elsewise.

And she liked being there. It was almost like having people to come home to, which Machi had never thought she gave a shit about before she met Chrollo and spent nights arm wrestling the others and playing cards and making fun of the school's black whale mascot.

Machi strode up the driveway. Her phone buzzed. Feitan, one of the ones she met back in Meteor City.

 _Stand outsde ur windo._

 _You better not be in my room,_ she texted.

Feitan didn't reply. Machi huffed, but she stood outside the window, hands on her hips.

Wait—it was open. Machi's eyes narrowed. _Feitan…_

A kid jumped from the window. Machi sprung at him. Her foot slammed into his knee. The kid yelped, sprawling across the crabby grass. She knelt, grabbing the kid by the shoulders. _A girl?_ A sleek black bob, pink eyes, and a kimono adorned the child. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Good, you got her," called Feitan's voice. "I be right out."

"I'm not a her!" squawked the kid. "I'm a boy!"

"Could have fooled me." Machi kept her knee on his chest. "You like robbing places, huh?"

"That was not—"

"I tell someone shimmied the lock when I got home," Feitan said, jogging over to them. He glared down at the kid. "Wrong house to break into, brat."

"I didn't—I mean—I just want to see my brother!" the kid blurted out.

The inky hair… Machi bit back a groan. "Who is your brother?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Feitan's face soured.

"Illumi. I'm Kalluto Zoldyck."

"Well, your brother apparently didn't teach you manners." Machi removed her knee and hands. The kid sat up, brushed grass from his hair. He blinked at them.

"Why you break in?" asked Feitan.

"They wouldn't let me on campus." Kalluto's nose wrinkled. "I want to talk to him—our other brother ran away."

"Huh?" Machi blinked. Oh Christ, she shouldn't even be asking. The last thing she wanted to do was get drawn into Zoldyck family drama because it would almost certainly involve Hisoka and she would just be tired. She had a lab to focus on. And her degree.

"I thought he might be coming here," said Kalluto.

"Well, he not in house," said Feitan, scowling as he crouched low. He tugged his skull scarf up over his mouth.

"I know that," said Kalluto, twisting his kimono in his hands. "But he has a—friend he met this past summer, here in this town. I wanted to tell Illumi, since our parents don't know."

"And you didn't want to tell your parents, huh?" Machi rose. Apparently the rich were no better than the poor. She held her hand out. "Want some hot chocolate?"

The kid's eyes lit up. Feitan rolled his eyes, but he followed them into the house.

"We can't exactly kick him out since he's Illumi's brother," hissed Machi as she opened the pantry and removed chocolate. She refused to get the cheap and easy hot chocolate. Not since she moved in here.

"Yes we can," Feitan insisted.

"You're a piece of work."

"You want to deal with Hisoka never shutting up about letting some—"

"Did you think I was a girl because of my kimono?" asked the kid, sitting down at the table primly, as if he was afraid of breaking something. Weird. Rich people usually plopped right down like they were blessing whatever had the fortune of supporting their ass.

"Yeah," said Feitan. "How you get in anyways?"

"My mother wanted a girl," said Kalluto. "She just has me and my three brothers. And another brother, but he's not really my brother."

That made no sense to Machi and she had too much biology to try to work out later to spend the mental energy. She heated the milk.

"I got in through picking the lock," said Kalluto. "It's not hard. My parents taught me to do it when I was four."

Machi and Feitan exchanged a glance. Not that they were exactly knowledgeable in what parents should do, but that seemed a little—odd.

"They said we might need to know to keep tabs on employees of our company," said Kalluto.

Machi finished the hot chocolate and poured it into three mugs.

"I no want," said Feitan.

Machi didn't care. "Then I'll drink it."

Feitan sipped it anyways. He just had to be bitter. "Your family company sound like it sucks."

Kalluto's eyes widened. He gulped the hot chocolate.

"Good?" Machi asked.

Kalluto nodded.

"Do your parents know where you are?"

He shook his head. "I sent a text message and kept my phone, unlike Killua. They shouldn't worry." He pressed his lips together. "I want my brother back. Illumi might be able to help get him back."

 _You sure about that?_ Machi saw the innocence in his face and decided not to mention it. "Did you text him?"

"No; he'll tell me to go home but I have to tell him about Killua's friend."

"I'll text him," said Machi. She rolled her eyes.

"How did you know I was here?" Kalluto asked Feitan. "I thought I was quiet."

"I pay attention," Feitan responded. "Library door was cracked."

"Oh." Kalluto looked crushed.

"Really, though," said Feitan. "You did a good job, and you're young. If you want career breaking and entering, you'll be fine."

Machi hit Feitan. He slapped a towel at her.

And Kalluto watched them both with wide eyes, and he giggled.

* * *

It'd been a week, and he couldn't find them. Illumi could hardly concentrate on his classes. Alluka could kill Killua and his little brother wouldn't even defend himself because he loved Alluka so.

 _More than me._

 _That's not true_. Illumi shooed the thought away. Once, when Killua was three and exhausted and Illumi was seven and carried him to his room and tucked him in, Killua told him. " _I love you most, Illumi."_

It was still true, wasn't it?

When Alluka attacked a maid in one of his fits, Illumi considered the best idea to lock her up, which his parents wanted to do anyways. But to protect Killua more so than to protect the family name. Killua spent too much time with Alluka and didn't realize that Alluka was… something else now.

"I'm telling you, bro," said Milluki. "I don't know anything. I haven't heard from the little brat. Killua spends too much time with his head in the clouds and thinking about what other people want instead of going after what he wants. He's talented but it will all go to waste because he's soft."

"He is not!" Illumi snapped. "He'll be a better CEO than you would be!"

"Not like anyone would give me the chance. And go away; I have coding to work on."

"You're just going to play video games," Illumi said, watching his brother slouch on his dorm room bed. The trash can was full of empty chip bags and candy wrappers. Action figures lined his bookshelves, and what Illumi felt fairly certain was the heel of a blow-up sex doll poked out from under the bed.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Milluki asked. "You, Mr. No Fun Ever?"

"I have fun!"

"When?"

Illumi snatched one of Milluki's Sailor Moon figurines. "I'm taking this until you get your first grades."

"Fuck you, Illumi! Give it back!"

"Earn it back." Illumi turned and stalked out. There, Mom and Dad should be happy. He was _trying_.

 _If you fail, Milluki, it'll be on me, too._

 _I'm already failing them. I can't fail them more_. He hung his head as he trudged back to the house.

"Didn't you get my texts?" Machi greeted him.

Illumi blinked. "Um, no?"

"Illumi," called a voice from the kitchen. He stiffened. _Kalluto_! His youngest brother sat at the kitchen table and looked to be making paper fans with his elaborate art decor. Feitan was studying his anatomy book, though he looked more likely to tear a body apart than do anything to put it back together. Though, through biological engineering maybe he planned to do just that.

"Please tell me you have permission," stated Illumi. "From Mom and Dad."

"I don't," said Kalluto. "Well, I do now. But I didn't when I left, but Father called and said it was okay so long as I was with you."

Illumi sucked in his breath.

"I know where he might be," added Kalluto.

Illumi's eyes widened. Kalluto followed him to his room. "He has a friend named Gon Freecss. He met him at that computer science camp this summer. And guess who his father is: one of the professors at this school. He doesn't live with him but—"

 _Killua could be_ here. Illumi's eyes popped. But surely Killua would have found him if that were the case, sought him out—

 _Why do you need friends? What am I? I'm enough for you, right? If I'm the only—don't you love me, Killua?_

He texted his parents to make sure Kalluto was allowed to stay with him. In the morning he would venture over to Professor Freecss' classroom.

Kalluto noticed Milluki's action figure and said nothing. He went to take a shower.

"I'm guessing that's not yours," came a voice.

Illumi turned to face Hisoka. "I'm not in the mood, Hisoka. Killua might be in town and—"

"If your brother wanted you to find him, he would have found you already," said Hisoka, sitting on Illumi's bed. "He hasn't: ergo, he does not want you to find him."

Illumi stiffened. "It doesn't matter what he wants. My other brother is dangerous. Insane. And he'll—"

"So if you had to choose between brothers, you'd pick Killua? Wonder how Kalluto or Milluki would—"

"Cut it out," snapped Illumi. "It's not like that. Alluka is not really family. It's—he's—"

"It?" Hisoka's nose wrinkled. "You may surpass me in insanity."

Illumi scowled. "Get out."

"Fine." Hisoka rose.

"My brother is here," said Illumi. "And he's fourteen. So please behave yourself."

"Okay, I won't screw any screamers while he's here."

 _"Hisoka."_

"Look, Illumi, your brothers exist in the world, okay? They're a part of it. I mean it when I say I won't do anyone loudly. But you have to accept that they are not your puppets and they are going to do what they want when they want, especially when they go off to college too."

"They have responsibilities," Illumi said sharply. "Unlike you."

"Do they want them, though?" Hisoka arched an eyebrow.

Illumi glared. "You invited me here to fuck with Chrollo, didn't you? I mean, not literally. To mess with Chrollo's mental state."

"Accurate," Hisoka allowed. "But I also do find you terribly interesting."

"What if I said you had no chance of getting into my pants?"

"I'd call you a liar."

"How do you know?" Illumi stepped closer, his heart pounding. He wondered. Would it be fun? Would a random college hook-up count as fun in Milluki's book? Maybe then his brother would respect him, if he—

"Are you asexual?"

Illumi crossed his arms. "No." He supposed he liked the idea of sex. And he'd definitely had sex before. Once. Sort of. It was over very quickly and to tell the truth Illumi had only done it so he could tell his father he wasn't a virgin anymore.

"Straight?"

"I don't know." Illumi thought about it. "No."

Hisoka smirked. "Do you know why I'd really call you a liar, Illumi?"

"Why?"

He gestured down. Illumi's face burned. "I'm not going to be your revenge against Chrollo!"

"Well, now we have all cards laid out on the table," Hisoka said. He tapped his foot.

Illumi frowned. "If I pretended to date you, would you help me find my brothers?"

"Huh?" Hisoka swung his head around, earrings swinging. They were new, golden and shaped like hearts. It was not easy to shock Hisoka, but the clown's eyes grew huge, and his mouth hung open.

"Help me find them," Illumi repeated.

"Why?"

"If my brothers are thinking more like they don't have—then you—"

Hisoka laughed. "Are you admitting you don't know everything?"

"I never claimed to. No sex involved, but I'll tell Chrollo we're dating. And annoy you with the—"

Hisoka snickered. "Sure. I'll help you. You want me at my most hedonistic or—"

"Behave yourself or I'll murder you."

Hisoka threw his hands up in the air. "Deal."

If his brother got word… Illumi felt hope. He could tell from Hisoka's narrowed golden eyes that he'd figured out this part of Illumi's motivation, as well.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Chrollo. The water still ran in the shower. "Can I kiss my fake boyfriend goodnight?"

"Fine."

Hisoka leaned in, cupping Illumi's chin. He expected his mouth to dive right in, but Hisoka brushed his lips over his, gentle. He pulled back, staring into his eyes as if making sure Illumi was all right, as if he wasn't sure Illumi really wanted to… fake date.

It was so absurd Illumi could have laughed. But they were both getting something out of it. Illumi pulled Hisoka's head down as Chrollo rounded the corner. Their lips met, and Illumi bit, not hard. Hisoka let out a surprised moan that didn't sound fake, and his mouth broke Illumi's apart, and Illumi opened up.

Chrollo slammed his door. Hisoka's nails scraped Illumi's scalp. This—this was kissing, more so than the past time he'd kissed someone. His stomach lurched. He panted, breaths coming hot and sharp.

The water turned off. Hisoka broke away. "Sleep well."

* * *

This wasn't sustainable.

Kurapika knew that, and yet he couldn't bring himself to tell Killua and Alluka to leave. Gon was scared to bring them back to his cousin for fear of the police getting involved.

" _They'll pay them off," Killua insisted. "They always do."_

Shoot and Knuckle were fine with Killua and Alluka crashing there for a few days, and Pairo as well. Alluka clapped her hands sometimes at strange moments, or stared into the distance, and Kurapika was starting to get an image of what had gone on in that house, and it made him sick. He would punch anyone who treated Pairo like he was less than human just because of his eyes; Alluka was no different just because her mind worked differently. And she was only fifteen, according to Killua.

But they'd have to think of a new plan soon. It'd been a week. Kurapika mulled it over as he trotted to Russian Lit. Rain pattered the ground. He couldn't stomach looking at Ging Freecss anymore; the man—

But Pariston Hill was almost as bad. Kurapika heaved a sigh as he entered the classroom, hair dripping wet.

"Take a shower outside?" quipped Chrollo.

Kurapika cast him a death glare as he stomped over to his seat.

"Good morning," cooed Pariston Hill. "Before we start our discussion of _Demons_ , I'd like to announce I've arranged for your presentations! I'll pass out a schedule with the date you'll be teaching, and your partner."

"No!" wailed Shaiapouf when he got the list. "But I don't _want_ to be with Komugi!"

The girl looked crestfallen, arms wrapping around herself. Pitou read the list to her.

"Shut the fuck up," snapped Kurapika. "Don't be a dick to her."

"Professor Hill, Komugi and I won't work well together—"

"In case you hadn't realized," said Pariston, a smile alighting his face as Kurapika received his paper. "I deliberately assigned you to students whom I haven't seen you interact with, or have seen you snipe at. Work together, or destroy each other and your grades in the process. Up to you." He beamed.

Kurapika's stomach flipped. He glanced down at the paper.

 _Kurapika Kurta & Chrollo Lucilfer._

Eight weeks from now.

 _You lazy bum; you just want to get out of teaching!_

He glanced across the classroom. Chrollo stared back at him with a face no happier than Kurapika felt, which was troubling because it meant they felt the same way, and Kurapika did not ever want to feel the same was as Chrollo. _Dick!_

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

" _Come out with us, Kurapika," Leorio said. "Please. I can't stand seeing you like this."_

 _He'd spent the past week locked in his dorm room, sobbing and staring at nothing. Because he felt empty, but somehow he could still bleed tears._

 _His parents were dead. Car crash. Pathetic, how common it was._

" _Come out," Pairo encouraged. "Please, Kurapika."_

 _Three rum and cokes later, and Kurapika's head was spinning. He stumbled through an unfamiliar house, tripping and grasping the counter to hold himself upright. It didn't work._

" _It's okay," a voice said behind him. "I've got you."_

" _Huh?" Kurapika glanced blearily up. A man with a cross tattoo on his forehead looked down at him. "Satan?"_

 _The man laughed. "Come on."_

 _He hauled him to the library, and Kurapika woke up there the next morning, safe and with a blanket over him and a million panicked texts on his phone. And then Chrollo came in with tea and asked if he was okay, said he was worried when he noticed just how drunk Kurapika was._

 _Kurapika didn't want to tell him he just wanted to forget how he felt, the ghosts clawing at him._ Mom. Dad.

 _And Chrollo asked him out a few days later, and Pairo tried to warn him. "Kurapika, I overheard two guys talking, a big one with an afro and a blond guy. They said Chrollo only wants to go out with you because of your eyes. You know, because they turn scarlet. He wants to make someone else jealous and thinks your eyes make you seem extra special. He doesn't really like you."_

 _And Kurapika insisted it wasn't true, told Pairo it was wrong for him to think that Kurapika was worthless deep down, and at those words Pairo flinched as if he'd slapped him. "Fine," he said, and the haunted tone still lurked in Kurapika's memories._

 _It was true, of course. Kurapika realized it three dates in, when he noticed they were always near a stupid clown._

He was so tired of being used by the people who weren't worth it, and being useless to the people who were.

He had to help Killua and Alluka. He had to. He wouldn't fail them.

Kurapika rose when class ended.

"Hey," called Chrollo. Kurapika cussed as he waited. "Do you want to meet and plan—it looks like we'll be on _Fathers and Sons_ then?"

"I suppose," said Kurapika icily. "Maybe I can come to your house so you can make the clown even more jealous."

Chrollo's eyes narrowed.

" _Is it true?" Kurapika demanded._

 _Chrollo just stared at him._

" _Fuck you," Kurapika told him, turning and marching off._

"Everyone does things like that," Chrollo said finally. "No one else overreacts—"

"Not everyone just had their parents die," Kurapika snapped.

"Excuse me if having parents at all is something that sounds magical."

"Fuck off." Kurapika held up his middle finger. _I don't feel sorry for you._

"I'll text you," Chrollo called. "You'll have to unblock me, though."

Kurapika swore again. He unblocked Chrollo on his phone and sent him a text. _Bitch_.

Leorio was calling. Kurapika answered. "What is it?" He headed behind the library. The campus's pond gleamed ahead, golden in the afternoon light. Leaves fluttered down, sticking to its surface like decorations. He paused, staring.

"You'll never believe what happened," gushed Leorio. "Kurapika, I just met a law student who's really cute—"

 _Oh no._ Kurapika cringed. He did not want to hear about Leorio getting laid or—

"And I told her a little bit about our situation, you know, with Gon and Killua and Alluka, and she said she'd help!" Leorio cleared his throat. "I guess she knows Ging Freecss and hates him, so—"

Kurapika squinted. "That's awesome!" Was that Tserriednich? With a small woman with long dark hair? His heart pounded as he remembered Chrollo's warning.

Chrollo was full of it. He should just walk away.

The woman turned away, and Tserriednich grabbed her shoulder.

"Kurapika?"

"That's—" Tserriednich was definitely yelling at her. "I'll call you back, Leorio." Kurapika hung up and jogged towards them. "What's going on?"

Tserriednich had the woman by her throat, and she was trying to shield—a baby. Who now burst into tears. Kurapika's eyes bulged. "You bastard!"

Tserriednich cussed. The woman gagged as he let her go. She looked up at Kurapika, tears in her eyes.

"Don't act like you're better than this, you slut," said Tserriednich. He glared at Kurapika. "This whore has—"

"Don't call her that," said Kurapika, stepping in front of the woman.

"What if it's true?"

"I don't care; don't call her that!" Kurapika balled his fists.

Tserriednich laughed. "So it's true. You really are stupid." He turned and stalked off. "I'll be telling my dad what you did, Oito!"


	5. Chapter 4: Purity

_Old enough to know and young enough to live again_

 _Stare into the mirror but no one that you know is there (that you know is there)_

 _Shaking like it's cold and no one's there to take your hand_

 _I will give you mine and shiver 'till you're warm again_

 _So don't you look down_

 _~"Over and Over," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

"Are you all right?" Kurapika exclaimed.

The woman shook her head. The baby sobbed, hiccuping. She patted the baby's back. "My stepson is—"

"Your stepson?" Kurapika cursed. The woman didn't look as if she was any older than a college student.

"I'm Nasubi Hui Guo Rou's wife, Oito," she explained. "This is my daughter, Woble—"

 _Oh, shit_. Kurapika had heard stories of that professor marrying a freshman after he knocked her up last year. "He just tried to hurt you," said Kurapika. "We should go to campus police—"

"You can't!" cried out Oito. Her hair, curly and thick and dark, fell off her neck, revealing a yellowing bruise. "He has them—Nasubi won't—Tserriednich has my phone and my bag—"

Kurapika swallowed. "You were—trying to leave him?" And the campus police—was she implying he could pay them? Was she implying—that bruise—

She squeezed her eyes shut. Woble wailed. "I'll go now—"

"It's okay," Kurapika said quietly. "I'll help you." Fire ignited inside of him. He wouldn't let this stand.

"Tserriednich said the same, and he wanted payment," Oito said. She clutched her forehead with her free hand as if in agony.

Kurapika's stomach lurched.

"I'm sure he's telling Nasubi I tried to seduce him." She crouched on the ground, burying her face in her daughter. Her shoulders shook. "I have to—get out of here."

"I'm going to help you," Kurapika promised again. He crouched. "I'm—Kurapika. I'm a sophomore. Literature major."

Oito blinked at him, lips trembling. "That's what I would have majored in—but—" She looked at Woble. The baby sniffled, and then reached out for Kurapika.

He froze. His mind tried to work.

"She doesn't like many people," Oito said softly.

Kurapika hesitated, and then held out his arms, taking her. She cooed, reaching for his one earring. A smile broke through his lips. "How old is she?"

"Eight months," Oito said.

"Do you need a train ticket?" Kurapika asked. He could probably borrow enough from Leorio or—

Oito studied the grass, overturned with stones and mud. "I don't know where to go. My family won't—they have enough problems—the local shelter's full. I can't—"

 _It's full? Why? How is the—this isn't supposed to be how the world works_! Kurapika thought of Killua and Alluka. "I have an idea. I said I'd help you."

"I don't want to burden you."

"You're not," said Kurapika. "It's okay." He passed Woble back to her. The baby let out an indignant cry. Kurapika smiled, an ache in his heart. He pulled out his phone.

"Of course," said Leorio.

"We can't," said Hanzo. "Kurapika, we live on campus. We're already pushing things with having those two here—we can't take in a woman and an infant! And is campus really the safest place for her?"

"I—" Kurapika gritted his teeth. "I told her I'd help her." He dropped his voice. "She has bruises, guys. She's not making it up." He knew Pairo and Leorio would side with him—what about Knuckle and Shoot?

"You still can," informed Hanzo. "Use your brain and forget your complaining for a minute. Who do you know who's petty enough to love revenge, owns a giant house off campus, and hates Tserriednich?"

Kurapika recoiled. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"I'm afraid I'm not," said Hanzo. "Morel, the RA, has been snooping lately. It's only a matter of time until he finds Killua and Alluka. Chrollo's not such a bad guy—he—"

"Killua's brother lives there!"

"Well, have you told Oito about Killua and Alluka? No? Then I don't see what the problem is." Hanzo hung up.

 _Sorry :(_ Leorio texted.

He called Melody next. She wanted to help, but: "I'm not sure I can trust Palm to keep it quiet. She's a bit… interesting."

 _Unstable,_ Kurapika understood.

"Unfortunately, Kurapika," Melody said quietly. "I think Hanzo is right. The safest place for her is off campus."

"With another abuser in Killua's brother?"

"Talk to Chrollo."

"I hate him."

"What matters more, your grudge or her safety?" Melody sighed.

Kurapika bit his lip so hard the skin broke. Blood tasted salty. "Fine!" He hung up and saw Oito shivering, bouncing Woble as they walked along the pond.

 _I won't turn back. I can still do good, can't I? Can't I do something useful? Can't I atone_? He dialed Chrollo.

"Well, this is a surprise," Chrollo said by way of greeting. "Want me to have your own voice calling me a bitch this time?"

Kurapika wanted to kick himself and Chrollo. "You hate Tserriednich, right?"

"If you're going to fuck him just to fuck with me, I don't care."

"Ew!" Kurapika wrinkled his nose. "No, bastard. I just saw him—attacking his stepmother. And she has her daughter. And she has bruises from—her husband, and she wants to leave, but she doesn't have—a place to go. And I—we live on campus."

"Are you for real asking me for a _giant_ favor right now?" Chrollo demanded.

"I will not antagonize you the rest of the semester," Kurapika said. "I'll—do all the work for our project—"

"Nice, but I actually like working."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"I'm not a fucking rapist, Kurapika."

Kurapika scowled. "Then what do you want?"

"I don't know yet," said Chrollo. "Your help, when I need it. That's all."

"For what?"

"I don't know yet. Nothing along the lines of what you're thinking."

 _I don't want to chain myself to this bastard!_

Woble cried, and Kurapika clutched the phone so hard his knuckles ached. "Fine."

* * *

"I don't understand," said Illumi, staring at Professor Freecss. "You don't talk to your son?" He couldn't imagine his parents not calling him at least once a day, for Dad, and five times a day, for Mom.

"If he's with your brother, I'm sure they're good friends," Professor Freecss answered. He adjusted his turban. His hair looked like he hadn't washed it in ages. Papers and binders cluttered his desk, and the curtains were so old they were faded. His trash can smelled like a compost bin. Which Illumi was starting to think it was. "I'm sure they're all right."

Illumi blinked. "Can I have the number to Mito Freecss?"

"She blocked me, so I don't have it."

 _Can't imagine why_. Illumi tugged at his hair. He needed to get this information. _I can't let my parents down._ Every time he thought about that, his throat burned like it had the day they dumped coffee down it, and that scared him more because he loved coffee and only wanted to enjoy it. "I need something. This is my brother."

"Can I ask you something?" Professor Freecss said.

Illumi nodded.

"Why does it matter? If your brother wanted to be with you, he'd be with you. He doesn't want to be with you. That's why he's not with you."

"So you don't want to be with your son?" Illumi asked. A strange feeling crept over him, like a million spiders running down his skin and spinning a web around him.

"Do you want to be with your parents?"

"Yes." Illumi didn't hesitate.

"Shame," said Professor Freecss. "It sounds like you follow the rules a bit too much, Mr. Zoldyck. Now if you'll excuse me."

Illumi sputtered as Professor Freecss pushed past him. He forced himself to leave calmly, wish him a good day, be perfect, _never let on that you hate them, that you will have the last word._

His father's hands cupped Illumi's chin, callouses scraping the flesh. Illumi blinked.

He was outside. The sun glowed from behind clouds being pulled apart like cotton balls by the wind.

 _Where did I fail you in that?_

Illumi bought himself a cup of coffee and chugged it. Good, he still loved the invigorating, rich taste.

 _I really want to find you, Killua._

 _I want you to be okay._

He texted Hisoka. _Can you give me a ride?_

 _Sure, Fake Boyfriend._ Hisoka signed it with a kiss emoji.

They found their way to Gon Freecss' high school. At the very least, there was only one of these in town, so he could presume he attended there.

"Please tell me why we're here, of all places," requested Hisoka, rubbing his chin. "This feels creepy."

"I told you; I'm looking for my brother's friend." Kalluto was staying at the house for the time being, and seemed to be getting along well with Feitan and Machi especially. Machi was teaching him to sew.

It didn't take long to identify Gon Freecss. He was the spitting image of Professor Freecss, but he had a smile on his face.

Illumi strode through the swarm of students, grabbing Gon's shoulder. Gon whirled around.

"Let's go," said Illumi. "You're a friend of my brother's, aren't you?"

Gon's eyes narrowed. He shoved Illumi away from him. "You're Killua's brother."

 _Kalluto was right._ Illumi's heart picked up pace. "Where is he?"

"Why would I tell you? You abused him. You and your parents, you locked Alluka up and—"

What kind of delusions was this kid under? They had to be trained to run the company. They were special. They were Zoldycks. "You don't understand; Alluka's dangerous!"

Hisoka approached behind him, brow furrowed.

"She seems sweet to me," Gon shot back. "And no, they're not at my house, and if I can see to it you never see them again, I will."

 _Never—see—_ Illumi flinched. "Killua will come back. He'll miss me."

"Would you miss someone who hurt your sister?"

"Alluka's my brother."

"No, she's your sister," Gon snapped. "Ask her."

"Jesus Christ," said Hisoka. "Illumi, your family's a dumpster fire."

"Shut up!" Illumi felt fire shooting through his veins.

" _Have_ you ever asked her? Or did you just leave her locked in the basement?"

Illumi wondered. Alluka did always prefer dolls and playing house and dancing. "Alluka had toys and a very comfortable room—"

"It's still abuse," said Gon. "And Killua is my friend, and I—"

"He doesn't need friends—"

"Then what is this?" Gon asked, gesturing to Hisoka.

"A fake boyfriend," said Illumi.

Gon's face scrunched up as if he couldn't understand. Hisoka guffawed.

"Go to hell," said Gon. "You're not getting Killua back. He doesn't want you."

"I like you, kid," said Hisoka. "You've got spirit."

Gon cast Hisoka a strange look. He pushed his fists into his jacket and stomped off.

"For the love of God tell me you're not going to follow him and get us arrested for stalking a high schooler," Hisoka complained.

"No," said Illumi. "I'll just call the police."

"He'll lie. It's what I would do." Hisoka hopped back into his ragtag car.

"We'll see." Gon's words echoed and echoed in Illumi's mind.

 _You're not getting Killua back._

 _He doesn't want you._

 _He doesn't want._

 _You._

 _Want you._

 _He doesn't._

Illumi's skull throbbed. He rubbed his temples.

"Was what he said about your sister true?" asked Hisoka, clearly using the phrase _sister_ to annoy him. "About locking her in a basement?"

"It was too risky to have Alluka with us. He—she—they tried to kill a butler once, in a fit. They're psychotic."

"Sounds like she's not the only one."

Illumi narrowed his eyes at Hisoka as he drove.

"Of course, abuse can break a mind. Or so Pakunoda says; she's the psychologist."

Illumi snorted. "Are you doing her too?"

"Not my type."

"I didn't know you were so discriminatory."

"Fine one to talk about discrimination, considering how I'm quite certain you locked Alluka up to protect your family. And isn't it ironic, then, that if it gets out, it is Alluka who will bring down your family's company, though not her, but what was done to her?" Hisoka smirked.

Illumi gaped at him. "It's not—it was necessary—no one would—"

"I don't know," said Hisoka with a shrug. "I'm hardly one to understand family dynamics and I mostly find them fascinating in how every family seems to want to destroy each other."

"Not us," said Illumi. "Not us." _We love each other. We have to. We're Zoldycks. I love—I love my mom, my dad, my grandfather, Killua, Kalluto, Milluki. I did love Alluka, once._

 _They love me._

Fucking Gon Freecss' voice again. _He doesn't want you._

His phone buzzed. Dad, texting him. _If you haven't found anything by Saturday I'm going to be very disappointed._

 _I won't let you down,_ he texted back.

 _Because I love you,_ he thought. He knew he couldn't text that, though.

"Let's get coffee," said Hisoka.

"I'm pissed at you."

"It's hard to tell when your face looks like a doll's all the time."

"Well, now I'm even more pissed at you."

"But do you want coffee?"

Illumi folded his arms. "Fine."

* * *

"What happening?" Feitan asked when he got back from lab. Illumi barely gave their new guest a second glance as he jogged up the stairs, Hisoka on his heels.

"Chrollo says we have this woman staying with us for the next few weeks," said Machi, hand on her hip. "And her baby."

Feitan wrinkled his nose, watching Oito Hui Guo Rou talk to Phinks, who hadn't taken his eyes off her since she entered the house. "It'll cry."

"Yes, babies do that," snapped Pakunoda, appearing. "She said she'll stay in my room."

"No sleep for you, Machi, or Shizuku," Feitan said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, Feitan," said Nobunaga. "Feitan!"

"I'll tell him if you tell Illumi and Hisoka," said Machi. "I don't feel like dealing with those two right now."

Nobunaga sighed. "Fine."

Chrollo held his arms crossed, studying Phinks and Oito and Pakunoda.

Woble started crying when Phinks held her. "Sorry, sorry!" Phinks exclaimed, face scarlet as he handed her back to Oito.

"He's smitten," mumbled Nobunaga. "We're fucked."

"So the rumors are true!" exclaimed Uvogin, bursting up the stairs. He looked overly excited to see a baby around. Oito managed a nervous smile, and Machi caught sight of bruises on her neck. So did Phinks. His eyes narrowed, fists curling.

Machi turned and stalked down the hall. She rapped on Feitan's door.

"What?" he snapped, flinging it open. His scarf was pulled up as per normal, even though it was hardly cold in the room.

"Danchou wanted me to tell you something," said Machi, pushing her way inside. "No one can mention that Oito is staying here. Nasubi will be looking for her."

"That kidnapping."

Machi took in the room, smaller than hers and with a futon crammed in the corner, bookshelves filled with books in a foreign language, and an empty, cracked vase with what might have been lilacs painted on it. Dumbbells stood in a rack under a small window, and the light burned low, as if Feitan hadn't replaced two out of the three lightbulbs in there. Knowing Feitan, he hadn't. "I doubt it. Did you notice the bruises on her neck?"

Feitan swore. "'Course I did."

They all would notice. They were used to such things. Sometimes it felt strange, being in this kind of society that fought against that type of thing rather than treating it as normal.

"So you won't say anything?"

"If Danchou say not to, I don't."

"Good." Machi wrinkled her nose. This place was so dusty. "Besides, Chrollo always wanted to have a safe haven around him."

"No, he don't," said Feitan. "He wanted haven, yes, but he will graduate at the end of the year, and we'll still be here since we're juniors."

"He'll stay."

"He won't."

Machi glared.

"We carry out his legacy," said Feitan, dropping onto the futon. "That what he wants."

"You're wrong."

" _You_ wrong."

Machi glared. "So then, what? We don't matter to him? Would you rather have his—haven or him?"

"Haven."

"I don't understand you," Machi declared. She didn't want to imagine living without Danchou around. She'd had no hope before.

"Do you love him or what?" Feitan demanded.

"Huh?"

"You. Love Danchou." Feitan tugged his scarf even higher, covering most of his nose.

"No, you idiot. I mean, yes, but not like that." Machi rolled her eyes and dropped down next to him. "He just—he found all of us, didn't he? And he lets us do our own thing, he gave us—"

"The house gave us—"

"A house has no feelings."

"I will engineer living house then."

Machi snorted. "Are you trying to joke?"

"Maybe." Feitan's scarf slipped a little. His eyes glittered onyx. "Has Hisoka behaved?"

Machi snorted and leaned back on her elbows. She kicked her legs up. "I don't know and I don't care. Though he and Illumi seem like they're dating?"

"We know that already," Feitan pointed out. "But he not hitting on you, right?"

"Why do you care?" Machi tossed one of Feitan's pillows up at the ceiling. "No, he isn't."

"Why you sleep with him?" asked Feitan. "Dumb."

"Say that again and I'll smother you. Both of us had multiple drinks and were eighteen and I thought it was what college students did."

Feitan rolled his eyes. "Why you have to do what college students do?"

"I don't give a damn. I'd just started and thought it would be fun. It wasn't even worth it. He didn't get me off."

Feitan actually laughed.

"Seriously, I've had far better partners." Men, and women. Machi aimed her finger at Feitan. "And you better never repeat any of this. Or I'll tear your tongue out."

Feitan scoffed. "You couldn't even try."

"I could."

"But I'm a _person_ , not a house."

Machi swung at him. Feitan ducked, grabbing her by the waist. She rolled so that she was on top of him. "I win."

They used to wrestle all the time, in Meteor City. She thought he was a jerk who prided himself in bullying people. And she kicked his ass a few times, and he kicked hers sometimes—not that either of them would ever admit it.

Feitan scowled. She expected him to kick her off.

But he hesitated, and then she felt something jabbing into her.

Feitan kicked her off then. "Sorry. I not Hisoka."

"It's biology," Machi responded. "My major." They studied together sometimes, because their majors had a lot of overlapping classes.

Feitan tugged his scarf up again.

Machi bit the inside of her lip, and then reached over and tugged his scarf down.

"Hey!"

 _I'm not someone special to you, am I? Do you even have anyone like that? How pathetic for you._

 _But you're part of this family._

Machi leaned in, pressing her lips against his. Feitan's eyes bulged when she pulled back. "Want me to go?"

Feitan shook his head. He grabbed her wrist, tugging her closer. They kissed until their lips were numb, and all their memories together from Meteor City, from here, flashed through Machi's mind. She yanked his scarf off and it struck her just how few times she'd seen him without it. His face had lost the baby fat he used to carry in his cheeks.

His hands found her chest. She lifted his shirt off first, and he pressed down against her neck, fumbling to untie her sash. He finally yanked it off. Machi didn't have time to be mad.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. She looked down at him, hair strewn against deep gray sheets, mouth agape, eyes wide.

"You know," he managed. "I do. Like you."


	6. Chapter 5: Sloth

_Turn it on, turn it up, turn it over and we'll start again_

 _~"Over and Over," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

 _I'm indebted to someone I hate._

No matter how many times Leorio, Killua, and Alluka asked him if he was okay, Kurapika kept insisting he was. But he wasn't. He couldn't believe he'd let this happen.

But what else was he supposed to do? Let Oito suffer? There was a baby involved, for God's sake. Kurapika was a better person than that.

He made his way to the first Russian Lit class since then. His heart pounded. He'd see Tserriednich, and Chrollo. But at least he wasn't indebted to Tserriednich, though he probably had more to fear from that particular brand of asshole. Chrollo had texted Kurapika yesterday to let him know Oito was doing well.

Kurapika headed into the classroom, taking note of Tserriednich sitting in his normal seat. The man's eyes gleamed.

 _Fuck_. Kurapika dropped into his own usual seat, folding his arms and hoping to be left alone. Professor Hill was going to be obnoxious today, judging by the way he was humming at his desk as he waited for them to trickle into the classroom. Chrollo didn't look at Kurapika.

When class was over, Kurapika scrambled to escape. He barely made it two steps out of the classroom before he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Get your hands off me."

"Where is she?"

"What are you, some kind of stalker?" Kurapika yanked his shoulder out of Tserriednich's grip. He marched away.

"I'll find her," Tserriednich called.

"And what, assault her too? You and your father are shitheads," said Kurapika, turning around to glare at the man. "Do you even see her as a person? That baby's your _sister_."

"She's a slut."

"I don't give a shit; it's wrong to hit—"

"Well," said Tserriednich. "I see she's worked her slutty magic on you as well."

"On the contrary, I don't go for women," Kurapika snapped.

Tserriednich let out a snort. "Well, tell her I'll find her. And I'll make sure that my father wins in court and takes that brat away from her."

 _Just because you want to hurt her?_ Kurapika balled his fist.

"Then she'll be completely alone. Which is exactly what you are, isn't it? No parents, no—"

Kurapika swung. Tserriednich yelped. He clearly hadn't been expecting Kurapika to actually attack him. Well, Kurapika wasn't the sort to just sit back and take it. He'd spent his middle school and high school years making sure anyone who mocked Pairo regretted it.

 _You aren't a burden to me, Pairo._

 _The burden is my own._

 _It's all my fault._

"Oh my, how humiliating for the mighty prince of Kakin. That's what you fancy yourself, isn't it?"

Kurapika looked up to see Chrollo peering down at Tserriednich, smirking as the other man cowered on the ground. Blood streamed from his broken nose.

"Get lost," snuffled Tserriednich. "He—hates you too."

"I know. But this was more than entertaining," Chrollo observed, running his hand through his hair. He turned and stalked off. Kurapika hesitated, and then gave Tserriednich one last kick before he rushed after Chrollo.

"That was impressive," Chrollo commented. "No, I don't plan to turn you in, though if you're worried he'll go to the police, I wouldn't. He'll be too humiliated."

"You read people too well," Kurapika commented. "He is looking for Oito. He said he'd find her."

Chrollo narrowed his eyes. "He won't get her. I'd dare him to try; most of us in that house spent time on the streets. We can take his shit."

"You're assuming he'll fight fair," Kurapika said. "He's the son of a political science professor. I doubt it."

Chrollo spun around. "Why does she matter to you?"

"I've seen enough hurt in my life," said Kurapika. "I'd prefer to protect instead of hurting."

"That really doesn't fit with what I know about you, but okay," said Chrollo, nose wrinkling.

"How about you?" Kurapika demanded. "Why are you taking her in? Is it just to get in my pants after all, since you failed last year?"

Chrollo laughed. "You really esteem yourself so highly?"

Kurapika gritted his teeth.

"Not that you'd be interested, since you seem to prefer rushing ahead and passing sentences, but I should tell you that what I said about most of us spending time on the streets is true. We're all society's outcasts. We don't exist. And fine, we don't have to, but I at least have a place for us right now. That house." Chrollo looked down at him. The wind blew his hair around his face. Last year he'd worn it slicked back, and having it down was so much a better look for him. The cross tattoo stood prominent on his forehead. "Whatever happens to me in the future, at least it exists."

Kurapika didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think it's better to have parents and lose them, or to never have them at all?" Chrollo asked. "I'd say you have it worse."

Kurapika flinched. A leaf blew through the air, twisting and tumbling, cut off from its life source.

"I didn't know," said Chrollo. "For the record, Kurapika."

Kurapika lowered his head.

"You were just something I could use against Hisoka."

"I'm aware." A few drunken makeout sessions, and Pairo insisting Chrollo was just using him, and Kurapika refusing to believe him because—he just wanted to believe someone wanted him.

 _I always tried to earn it._

 _Mom? Dad? Did you want me? Or was I just something to brag about?_

 _Pairo, do you want me?_

"I'm sorry," said Chrollo.

Kurapika glanced at him, eyes widening.

Chrollo shifted. "If you want to come see Oito, you are welcome to. I know she's feeling guilty and like enough of a burden, though, so…"

 _We shouldn't tell her about Tserriednich._ "I somehow suspect she'll find out," said Kurapika. "She seemed smart."

 _I read people, too_.

"Probably," said Chrollo. "It's not sustainable, though."

"Believe me, I know." He thought of Killua and Alluka.

Chrollo frowned but didn't press. "Well, I think Phinks is trying to work out a longer plan for her."

"I have a friend who has a lawyer friend," Kurapika said. "I can give you her number. Her name's Cheadle. If Oito wants to contact her—well, Cheadle's just a law student, but—"

"I don't like that phrase," commented Chrollo. "' _Just a student_.' What else would you be? Are you ever an expert?"

Kurapika shut his mouth. "I seem to remember you bragging about yourself a few times. It's almost as if you have a cult following if the rumors are correct, so—"

"It's just my role," said Chrollo, with a shrug. "The one fate gave me."

"Fate's not very nice."

"Probably not."

 _Will I ever be wanted?_

He looked at Chrollo, and he wondered what on earth this man wanted.

* * *

"You wanted to meet with me?" Hisoka knew he was late by eight minutes, and he didn't care. He'd already missed two meetings last semester, though, and he had to do the bare minimum to graduate. It'd bring him more opportunities in life.

"I did," confirmed Netero, the president of Kakin University. "Have a seat."

Hisoka dropped into a chair, slouching. Books on kundalini and Buddhist transcendentalism were stacked on the man's desk. A window behind the desk opened up to a view of the entire campus. Hisoka tapped his long nails against his arm as he waited.

"I wanted to discuss your grades and behavior," Netero said.

Hisoka arched an eyebrow. "My grades are fine."

"They could be better, and if you get thrown out of another class, your GPA will automatically drop, and you'll lose your scholarship."

Fuck, fun ended. Well, it was for greater fun later. "I won't get thrown out of another class, then." Hisoka straightened.

"I get the feeling you're not really trying," Netero said, resting his chin on his fist and studying Hisoka with those beady eyes of his.

Hisoka took in a photograph of a bearded man who bore more than a little resemblance to the president, but the photograph was facing away from Netero, as if he didn't really want to see his son's face. A smile curved Hisoka's lips. _You're no different, are you? You're just another selfish person out for fun in this world._

 _Why do you have to pretend? Wouldn't it be more fun for you if you could just let it go_? "Am I graded on effort?"

"No," said Netero. "You're graded on performance."

"I'm aware; it was rhetorical."

Netero's eyes narrowed. "You might want to keep in mind that you'll need recommendation letters for—"

"What? Graduate school? I don't plan on that. I want to have fun. A good life."

"A job, then."

Hisoka shifted. "I'll sell my art. Or act in local performances."

"For someone so talented," said Netero. "It's a shame you're so lazy."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "I'm not lazy."

"And you're a liar."

"Did you invite me here to challenge me to a battle of wits?" Hisoka quipped. "I see you are unarmed."

"Shakespeare. Cute." Netero didn't seem amused. "You love challenges. You seek them out, taking the strangest electives because you want to push yourself, but that doesn't make you not lazy."

"Look," said Hisoka. "I'm in philosophy right now, and I'll tell you I like hedonism. Enjoy your life and then you die. That's why I'm here at school. Not because I believe in the value of an esoteric education, but because I want to have fun and I like the challenge. When I'm done I won't hesitate to leave and I won't care. Not having recommendations is just a new challenge."

"How's your living situation?" Netero tried.

"Fun," Hisoka said. "I like being off-campus. Less rules."

"Fine," Netero said shortly. "Next time you'll be called in here, it'll be to expel you. That's a challenge I encourage you not to take."

"Seems too boring for me anyways." Hisoka rose. "Can I go?"

"Yes." Netero seemed more than a little annoyed.

Hisoka almost bumped into Meruem, heading to meet with Netero. Meruem had almost got expelled last year, that he knew, but seemed to have turned it around. How dull.

Hisoka went to class and spent it sketching in his notebook. When he headed back to the house, he found Illumi arriving back around the same time. "How was class?"

"Fine," Illumi answered. "Kalluto is staying with Milluki for the night. He got a good grade on his exam, so I gave him his Sailor Moon figurine back."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "You and Netero should team up to be obnoxious together."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Illumi yanked the door open. Chrollo sat on the couch, perusing a book. Oito chatted with Nobunaga while Woble slept on her lap.

Hisoka slipped his hand into Illumi's to annoy Chrollo. Illumi leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. Too sugary.

But Chrollo now rolled his eyes. "I'm heading up to the attic."

"The hell is in this attic?" Illumi asked as he followed Hisoka up the stairs, disentangling his hand from Hisoka's. Hisoka's fingers felt cold. "An enchanted rose?"

"No idea." That was a lie and Illumi could tell Hisoka knew it. But that was something he didn't care to wreck for Chrollo. Not yet.

"How did your meeting with the president go?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Don't leave your laptop open." Illumi ran his hands through his hair. Hisoka followed Illumi into his room. So empty. And yet not boring. The corners and dusty shelves looked as if they were just waiting to be filled.

"So you're spying on me."

"Only when I feel like it." Illumi removed his books from his bag, neatly stacking them on his bureau. The mirror waved in one corner, distorting Illumi's reflection.

"Whatever. He wanted to nag me about behaving better and getting better grades so I can get recommendations and join society like he did."

Illumi dropped onto the bed, staring up at him. "What do you plan to do then, exactly?"

"Be like you. On the outskirts of society. It's boring in there."

"I follow rules."

"You're still just observing. Both of us, and Chrollo." Hisoka pinched his hair. "Or don't you see your family as separate? The Zoldycks, the holy—"

Illumi pressed his lips together. Hisoka wasn't wrong. "Why did you and Chrollo end your friends-with-benefits arrangement?"

"Sleeping with a housemate is a bad idea," Hisoka responded. "Well, if you like order. I like chaos." He sat on the opposite side of the bed and winked.

"Why?" asked Illumi.

Hisoka snorted. He produced a stress ball from his pocket and tossed it up in the air, catching it when it fell. Toss, catch. Toss, catch. He never missed, so he started widening the toss so he'd have to lean and catch it.

He used to see parents walking kids home from schools, kids given normal bedtimes, parents, kids, parents, kids, and he had none of that. When he showed up to school the teachers would berate him for not wearing the required uniform and for not listening. But he just wanted to explore, to see what there really was in the world, and reading a goddamn textbook written by someone who had never smelled an emotion in their life was not all there was.

Chrollo wanted more. Hisoka knew that. And his lies to himself were tiresome.

"Why do you care?" he asked.

"I don't," said Illumi. "I'm just curious."

"Curiosity," said Hisoka. "I don't want attachments. All you want is attachments but only to select people. Chrollo wants to pretend he's aloof when really he's anything but. And he wants fun too. You wouldn't know fun if you shoved it up your own ass."

Illumi glared at him.

"Life is just death anyways," said Hisoka. "Might as well enjoy what I can." He squeezed the ball, finally. It was shaped like a heart.

"It is not."

"Everyone's gonna die, Illumi. I hate to break it to you, but that includes your grandfather, your parents, your—"

"Stop!" Illumi clamped his hands over his ears.

 _What a baby._

"If my family continues, and our company with it, then it doesn't matter," said Illumi, chest heaving. "That's—a way of living."

"I don't see the point. They don't love you. Killua, Kalluto, Milluki."

"Yes," Illumi countered, leaning closer. "They do."

Hisoka snorted. Illumi was so confident in his lies. "You're just in a prison but since it's named _Zoldyck_ , you don't mind. You follow orders. You'll go wherever they go."

"I am not."

"Tell me, Illumi, when's the last time you did anything for yourself?"

"Fake-dating you," Illumi responded.

"That's for me, not for you."

"Why do you care?" Illumi asked.

Hisoka dug his nails into the heart-ball. "I don't. I just find you interesting."

"You just want to be noticed," Illumi said.

"Excuse me?"

Footsteps sounded outside Illumi's room. Illumi dove in, kissing Hisoka, loudly. _Suck it, Chrollo_. Illumi's tongue was warm against his. Illumi got onto his knees, bending down to grip Hisoka's skull. Illumi's hair fell around them like a curtain cutting them off from the world.

 _You are such a bundle of contradictions._ Hisoka pushed Illumi back against the wall, and Illumi let out a groan. He found Illumi's neck and nipped at it. Illumi responded by biting his lip. Hisoka sucked in his breath.

Illumi broke away.

"Sorry," Hisoka panted. "You're a surprisingly good kisser."

"Surprisingly?"

"I thought it'd be like kissing a sad noodle."

Illumi glared, and then his eyes widened when he realized Hisoka was joking. A small smile spread across his face. Hisoka knew Illumi was stronger than he looked, and he wanted to see that, wanted to see him pushed to his limits, wanted to see him explore.

 _I wish you were free._

"See ya," said Hisoka, rising.

Illumi caught his wrist.

Hisoka turned.

"My brother isn't here now," said Illumi, looking up at him. A bruise already formed on his neck. "You said I should do something for myself."

"You also said _no sex,"_ Hisoka pointed out. His heart thudded in his chest. _Are you for real right now?_

"Up to you," said Illumi. "But I don't make offers like this very often."

"Have you ever?"

"Not with a man." Illumi peered up at him.

 _Notice me._

 _You clearly have._

Hisoka settled down next to him, cupping Illumi's head. He pressed his lips against his, opening Illumi's mouth. Blood surged through him.

"Do you have a condom?" Illumi rasped.

"I come prepared." Hisoka dug into his pocket, pulling out a packet.

"I don't even want to think about the implications of that."

"I do get tested regularly."

"That wasn't what I meant and if you keep talking you're going to turn me off."

Hisoka frowned. It sounded like Illumi was talking like this was a business transaction. Which he supposed it was, since it was part of their agreement—well, an extension thereof. But… _I want to make sure you enjoy yourself._ "Do you want to be on top, or me?"

"This is all very complicated." Illumi cocked his head. "I don't have a preference."

"Well, since I clearly have more experience, I'll be on top," Hisoka decided.

"Fine by me." Illumi tossed his hair. "Last time I was on top, and I didn't enjoy it very much."

 _Last time…_ "Are you sure you want to do this?" Hisoka asked, studying Illumi's face.

Illumi moved Hisoka's hand to his crotch as if to answer that. _Okay then_.

Clothes came off slowly, and Hisoka noticed that he could see Illumi's abs, each one perfectly sculpted. He traced them with his fingernails, trailing kisses up and down his torso.

Illumi closed his eyes.

"Pain?" Hisoka asked. And something burned in his fingertips. He wanted Illumi to open his eyes. He needed Illumi to open his eyes.

 _I'm here._

"No," Illumi managed. And his eyes opened, those doll eyes that he had, and he met Hisoka's gaze. A smile twitched on his swollen lips. Hair stuck to his forehead.

 _You're here._

 _You want to be, and I want to be here too._

This was what kept him here, rooted him, convinced him he could stay instead of going mad. Moments like this. Fire, shooting through him. Waves of something better. Illumi's chest, sweat glistening on his neck, his lips grappling for Hisoka's. He felt wanted. He could feel every breath surging in and out of his lungs, up through his throat, his mouth, his nose. Illumi's hands gripped his back, digging in. He was shaking, and Illumi too, and he tightened his arms around Illumi and Illumi tightened his arms around him.

 _Why did you keep seeking me out last year? Or the year before? Did you subconsciously want this? Or what?_

They both lay there, panting.

 _Illumi, you fascinate me._

"Thank you for being quiet," said Illumi. "I didn't want Chrollo to hear."

Oh. Right. Hisoka swallowed.


	7. Chapter 6: Envy

Hisoka woke in the middle of the night, Illumi asleep next to him, hands neatly clasped under his cheek. Hisoka eased himself out of the bed. It wouldn't be good to stay. Illumi might even have regrets. Though he hoped not; Illumi had seemed more than eager.

Angry Illumi could be interesting.

No, it'd be boring. Illumi hated everyone else already who wasn't family and yet he slept with Hisoka. Hisoka found that exhilarating.

Hisoka slipped out of the room and into the shower. Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids, but he refused to allow them to close. He headed down the stairs to the kitchen to make coffee and found Machi, her hair damp and in her robe, making hot chocolate.

"Great," Machi complained.

"Relax, I'm just making coffee."

"You're never 'just' doing anything." Machi rolled her eyes.

 _Afterglow_ , Hisoka thought. With whom? It wasn't Chrollo, that was for sure. Paku had Oito and the baby in her room. So Shizuku, or one of the guys. Phinks seemed to head over heels for that mom. Hisoka's mind whirred.

"Can't sleep?" he asked. The clock read three in the morning.

"Woble woke up and was crying. Oito finally got her to go back to sleep after apologizing six million times, so I'm making her and Paku and myself some hot chocolate."

"Oh, so you were on that floor?" Hisoka pressed brew on the coffee machine.

Machi ignored him.

"So, no."

"Why are you so interested in my sex life? It's creepy."

"I'm not."

"That's a lie."

"It's not. My own is so much more interesting. You just are fun to tease and we both know you don't hate me as much as you pretend to."

Machi huffed. A smile almost crossed her face. "Kalluto doesn't sleep much at night, you know. I've found him in the kitchen before and made him hot chocolate. I think it's almost a habit at this point."

"You don't mind having brats around?"

"No. At the foster home I was in before I ran away, I had to take care of all the younger ones. They annoyed me, so I left. But no one makes me do anything here." Machi turned off the stove and poured the hot chocolate into three cups. No, four. Hisoka pressed his lips together.

The coffee finished. He dumped sugar and cream into it.

"You have more calories in that than I do in all these cups of hot chocolate," Machi pointed out, arranging them on a plate to carry up the stairs.

"I'll work it off." Hisoka leaned back against the counter, breathing in the creamy scent. "So was it one kid you'd get to calm down with hot chocolate, or most of them? Or was it yourself?"

Machi looked away, towards the darkened staircase. Her voice box bobbed in her throat as she swallowed. "You know," she said. "You're an idiot."

"You've said that before," he pointed out.

"You should have learned a lesson after going through that mess with Chrollo," said Machi. "Instead you seem to have dug in your heels and are repeating everything. You're stupid as fuck."

"Huh?" Hisoka gaped. He squeezed the mug in his hand.

"You're not the only one who observes people of interest to them," Machi responded.

"Does that mean I'm of interest to you?" he hollered after her. The joke felt heavy in his abdomen. He chugged more coffee, hoping to rinse it away. Instead it settled in his stomach, wrapping around him from the inside like arms made of lead.

"It means you're like an obnoxious child like the ones I wanted to scream at when they touched the hot stove after being told they'd get burned!" The floorboards creaked. She cussed as she must have stepped on the broken one. Well, she clearly wasn't dead; the cups hadn't crashed.

She somehow knew about Illumi, didn't she? But it wasn't like that. They'd defined it. Fake dating. And then just experimenting. Okay, they hadn't clarified that, but it wasn't anything more. Hisoka raised the mug to his lips and found that it was empty sooner than he'd thought. He scowled and slammed it onto the counter. He'd have to brew more.

More, more, more. He always wanted more. When he was younger he thought he might find living water, or something to fill him. It didn't exist, so he swung from pleasure to pleasure , wind on his face and always at risk of falling, but it was a challenge.

" _You're a street kid. You won't live; you'll just exist. No one wants you."_

He couldn't remember who'd said that. A cop? A do-gooder? Another street kid, or a beggar adult? Or was it just something he imagined from the messages everyone would send him?

No one would want him, but he could want things and experiences and people for nights when they wanted him too. They did want him. And he was living. He knew he would die, but he could feel things. He wasn't still on the streets.

 _Fuck you_ , he thought to a blank silhouette. It bore his shape.

A shadow.

Running.

Hisoka froze. Two shadows, creeping along the kitchen floor. Chrollo had sent them all that text about Tserriednich… he'd love to kick that pompous ass right in the dick. He bet it was tiny anyways.

But the figures were way smaller.

Hisoka yawned and moved towards the staircase. He ducked into the living room, racing towards the front door. He unlocked it and slipped out without fully shutting the door, racing to the other side of the house. His daily workouts served him well.

"Run!" yelled one of the figures. A familiar voice.

Hisoka grabbed the first figure by the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. The kid gaped up at him.

 _Killua Zoldyck?_

A foot smashed into Hisoka's skull. He lashed out, grasping the kid's leg and throwing him down behind his friend. His skull throbbed. Damn, he was gonna have one hell of a headache.

"Ow!" yelped the kid who'd kicked him. Hisoka shone his phone's light into his face. Gon Freecss.

"I can't say I'm not impressed with your pluck," Hisoka said. "Come to apologize to your brother, Killua?"

"No!"

"Figured. Which means you're here looking for dirt on him."

Gon pushed himself up, glancing at Killua. Killua set his jaw, as if refusing to answer.

"Want me to call him right now?" Hisoka asked, brandishing his phone.

Gon lunged for the phone.

"Down, idiot," said Hisoka, shoving him away. This kid's fire reminded him of himself.

"Are you his friend?" demanded Killua. "You know he told me I didn't deserve friends, right? That I—that family was all—"

"No, we're just fucking," Hisoka answered. Illumi really said that, didn't he? Probably told himself it was for Killua's own good, that he was all Killua needed. Illumi was the most emotionally repressed person he knew.

Killua's eyes bulged. His mouth twisted in complete horror.

"Leave your brother alone," Hisoka warned them. "Unless you want me to tell him, which I'd be happy to do. He at least gives me dick whereas you two are just nuisances potentially coming between me and said dick." Not that it was likely to happen again. But he liked the possibility.

"Ugh!" Killua doubled over, clutching his hands over his ears.

"Illumi's a risk," said Gon. "He hates Alluka and doesn't even believe she's a person. _He's_ the one who's barely a person."

"Sounds to me," said Hisoka. "Like you've got a plank in your own eye, kid." He rose. "Get off this property in ten seconds or I'll calling Big Bad Illumi."

Killau scrambled to his feet. Gon grabbed Killua's hand, dragging him along.

"Why are you even involving yourself?" Hisoka yelled after him.

Gon whirled around. "Because he's my friend! And I want to help my friends!"

 _To the point where you'd do something stupid for what you want._ Well, he could respect that. And because of that he wouldn't tell Illumi.

The blank silhouette slipped closer. He thought of kissing Illumi again, of irritating Chrollo, of graduating with honors to fuck with Netero. Those thoughts burned inside, melting away the cold fingers of an empty shadow.

* * *

Chrollo sat up in the attic, watching Hisoka head back into the house after scaring those two kids away. There was one small window, shaped like an octagon, in the attic. Boxes and furniture crammed everywhere, giving it the appearance of a haphazard attic filled with only junk. But drawers in empty bureaus were filled with jewelry, and if someone studied the furniture, they'd find antiques.

 _You don't have the money to keep this place going._

 _I'll get it._

Everyone helped him, really. Sometimes. But no one knew the extent of it—except Hisoka. Chrollo pulled his coat tighter around him.

He knew when he welcomed Hisoka into the house that the man didn't care about anyone but himself. And he knew he wanted to find out just how Chrollo had clawed his ways out of the gutters, and that he wanted to get into Chrollo's pants. He'd agreed to the latter simply because it was fun, and he needed some stress relief.

It backfired.

They were just friends with benefits, but then Hisoka was still taking other lovers, even if he insisted he was using protection and Chrollo figured that to be true since Hisoka didn't seem the type to want to risk herpes. But people were whispering, muttering that Chrollo was being used, and he didn't like that at all. Just another notch in Hisoka's belt.

Not hardly. He refused to be _just_ anything. A fortune teller told him once. He'd do great things. He was eight and starving and spent his last coins on her fortune instead of on food. Once she told him that, he knew he needed to survive and stole bread like Jean Valjean, because even at eight he was reading _Les Mis_ even though he didn't know what half the words meant. He didn't get caught. Because fate had a plan.

So he decided to show Hisoka up. The Kurta boy seemed like the perfect target. Hisoka himself had commented how gorgeous he was, and of course, the Kurtas were legendary for their eyes. Rumor or not, the golden halo surrounding his face, his peculiar clothing, and his delicate, angelic features set Chrollo's stomach fluttering.

And then it all crashed and burned when Kurapika flipped out about being used. Chrollo snorted. Stupid self-righteous boy. They were all using each other, right?

" _So Pairo was right," Kurapika mused, looking down. "You really were only after my eyes and sticking it to someone else. You didn't really like me."_

" _I mean, I liked you enough to choose you," Chrollo pointed out, pushing his hair back. Their make out session had dislodged some of it from its gel prison, but when he'd requested to see Kurapika's eyes, the other boy pushed him away._

 _And Kurapika turned to glare at him, and then Chrollo knew that the rumors about the Kurta eyes were true. They glowed scarlet, and they took his breath away, and they were bleeding tears._

" _I didn't need this right now," Kurapika said, chest heaving._

" _I did, so—"_

When Kurapika punched him and stalked off, everyone laughed.

In truth, Chrollo hadn't known his parents had just died. But if he had known, it wouldn't have mattered, because he had no idea what that meant.

Chrollo slipped down the stairs to meet Hisoka as the man came back up to their floor. He winked at Chrollo.

"Seduced Illumi already?" Chrollo asked.

Hisoka shrugged. "I don't owe you an explanation."

"Do you really think I'm not over you? Do you really think I actually cared?"

"No," said Hisoka. "I knew you care. Not about me, but about everyone else in this house. You're living in fear that I'll sleep with someone else from the house and hurt their feelings, aren't you?"

"You're petty enough." Chrollo crossed his arms.

"I'm not the one who tried to seduce a freshman because his eyes were pretty," Hisoka pointed out.

Chrollo gritted his teeth. "If you tell Tserriednich—"

"Why would I? That man's a rapist. He can fuck himself. If he shows up I'll gladly punch him."

Chrollo bit his lip. "If you go for Oito, that will only—"

"I have _Illumi_ ," Hisoka said. "We're dating."

 _Ew_. Chrollo arched his eyebrows.

"You seem to think I don't have standards."

"Because you don't."

"I do." Hisoka pushed past him. "Sleep well, Chrollo dear."

Chrollor resisted the urge to punch him in the face. "Why did you even decide to live here? No one wants you." _But you stick around anyways._

 _Trash like you should go off and die._

Whoever'd said that to him as a kid, he'd resolved to prove wrong.

 _No one wants you._

 _Who cares?_

Hisoka let out a harsh laugh. "If you're worried I'll rat on your stash, rest assured, I like having a place to live." Hisoka paused, studying Chrollo. "And it's filled with interesting people, and you're always a challenge." He shut the door.

Chrollo curled his fists. _Don't pretend you have anything to gain by wanting to be here! I'm not your toy!_ He turned and stomped down the stairs towards the kitchen. Another all nighter it was.

A baby's cry rose. He found Oito bouncing Woble in the living area. "Sorry," Oito stammered. "Did she wake you? She's fussy because—"

"No," said Chrollo. "I was awake anyways." He rubbed his forehead.

"I really don't want to be an imposition," Oito said.

"You're not." Phinks liked her, Chrollo was certain of that.

"You're all students, though. You need your rest."

"You hardly seem like you're older than us," Chrollo said, grabbing a copy of _The Tempest_ and settling onto the couch.

"I'm twenty," Oito said sadly.

Chrollo swallowed.

"I thought he loved me—he said he did, and he said I didn't have to worry about affording school anymore, or anything. He was happy when I told him I was pregnant. I was happy too, until—he doesn't care about Woble, and he doesn't care about me. All he cares about is himself, and money, and I'm a fool for not seeing that." Oito studied her daughter, quieting at last as she lay on her back. "But he gave me Woble, so I'm glad."

"I wouldn't know," said Chrollo. "Family isn't something I understand or care about."

"Then what's this house?" asked Oito.

Chrollo pressed his lips together. He did not like that question. This house was... revenge. Against the world. Proving trash could make it.

"My family was poor. I was the middle child out of five, and I always—dreamed of a life like Nasubi led," Oito said, stroking her daughter's curling hair. "They don't want me back, I'm sure. They have other things to worry about."

"You can stay as long as you need," said Chrollo. And he didn't even understand himself. She wasn't useful to have around.

 _Maybe this is just fate._

Oito shrugged.

"Did you love him?" asked Chrollo.

"I thought so," said Oito. "I think I just—loved what he represented to me. A man on a white horse."

Chrollo hardly thought Nasubi looked like any sort of prince. Well, maybe Oito grew up with different storybooks.

"I was a fool," Oito said sadly. Woble stirred, and she lifted her daughter up, breathing in her scent. "This house is your white horse, isn't it?"

"I don't understand," Chrollo said. _The house? We just use it. And each other. And it's good, because it gives us a sense of purpose and a place to belong to, to recharge when we need to. It didn't rescue me. Then again, men on white horses don't rescue either, do they? They just want someone to knock up, ensure their legacy._

 _And I want... the graduate with my degree. To write a paper and ensure I'm not forgotten. To have all these people remember me._

 _That isn't how most people are, is it?_

"Want to hold her?" Oito asked, gesturing.

"Um. Okay." Chrollo held his arms out.

"Are you and Kurapika exes?"

"No," Chrollo insisted, the baby settling in his arms. He supported her head. She barely fluttered an eyelid.

 _She can't do anything._

 _She's useless._

 _But you still want to protect her. So much so that you gave up everything else you had._

 _For what, though? Did you want adventure after all, like Hisoka, like me? Or did you—was it really all for your child?_

He thought of Kurapika's face earlier that day, when he mentioned his parents. _If I had parents like that, I couldn't bear to lose them._ "No," said Chrollo again. "We're not, because we're from different worlds." And a part of him wished he was from Kurapika's world, had that faith in the world that burned inside the red-eyed boy, had not tried to use him.

 _If I was different, could we be different?_

* * *

Illumi made sure Kalluto was to hear nothing of what had happened between him and Hisoka. Hisoka agreed.

 _Are we fake dating? Or was that real?_

 _Why did I sleep with him if it wasn't real?_

Because it felt good. But… _I wanted too._

 _And I'd do it again._

There was still no word on Killua as the weekend rolled around. Illumi was starting to panic when he arrived home from classes around five to see a familiar car parked in the driveway. His heart picked up pace. _Did they find him?_

Illumi burst inside to see Mom and Dad sitting in the living room. Mom was fussing over Kalluto's kimono. She always wanted a daughter, Mom had. Nature hadn't given her one. _Unless Alluka… but they say Alluka's an it._

"Illumi!" Mom cried out, racing towards him.

He let her embrace him, though he was stiff like normal. His eyes found Dad's, the blue, cat-like shape that only Milluki shared, though Kalluto and Killua had aspects of it as well. Illumi's eyes were all his mother's: huge, dark. "Did you find him?"

"No," Dad stated. "Illumi—"

"I've been looking," Illumi blurted out. "And I will keep looking. I suspect he may be at Gon Freecss; if we can get a warrant—"

"Have you talked to the police?"

Illumi blinked. "I thought you would."

"We _have_ , of course," Mom said, wringing her hands. Kalluto studied his feet, face flushing the color of his eyes. Illumi heard creaking on the stairs and a baby's gurgle.

"About this specifically," Dad cut in, voice like ice. A voice he hadn't used on Illumi since the coffee incident, though he commonly used it on Milluki.

"I was going to this weekend," Illumi stated. But he felt he should be able to do it without the police. Dad also said to never involve the police unless it was necessary.

"Why not now?" demanded Dad, crossing his arms. "It seems like you are not doing much besides studying."

Illumi swallowed. "I'm—"

"Letting a clown screw you?"

Illumi's spine crawled with fear. His eyes wouldn't even blink now. "I—"

"We had the pleasure of meeting him," Dad said. "Or, rather, Kalluto pointed him out."

Kalluto took a step back, clasping his hands together. He was shaking.

"It was just once, and for fun," Illumi said.

Dad's hand smacked Illumi across the chin. He stumbled back, barely staying on his feet. His cheek stung. His nose ached. His pride felt broken. At least he didn't hear others around here. "Fun, or your brother, the future of the Zoldyck family?" Dad snapped. "You're becoming like Milluki, Illumi. That creature could be killing him."

Illumi's hand drifted upwards to clutch his cheek. But no, he couldn't let Dad see pain, or weakness. He'd just be even more disappointed in Illumi, and he wanted to stand tall even though he was an adult and had finished growing and would never, ever be as tall as his father.

He looked at his father and wondered if his father could see any of himself in him. Tsubone's words echoed and echoed.

 _"Too much like their mother…"_

 _But you love her. You married her. Right? Right? I'm not wrong?_

 _I am wrong. All of me is—wrong._

Illumi bowed his head. "I apologize. I will take responsibility. I swear I will find Killua, and soon. And Alluka as well."

"Don't tell me," said Dad. " _Show_ me."

 _Don't tell me you love me. Show me._

 _Don't tell me you want to be strong. Show me. Stay up all night. Hit your brothers. Succeed in school._

 _Don't tell me. Show me._

It all made sense. Words were cheap, after all. But then why this empty feeling? Why a sense of loss whistling through him?

"I promise you," Illumi said, meeting his father's eyes. _Please, at least see your determination in me._

 _I am a Zoldyck. It's all that matters to me. I'll do whatever you want, forever._

 _I will bring Killua back. I'm the one he loves most, right?_

"Fine," Dad said. "Don't let me down, son."

Illumi's heart lifted. "I won't."

Mom clapped her hands together. "Now, let's go out for dinner."

"Of course," Illumi said. He headed for the lavatory. Dad was an expert in giving hits that would hurt but never bruise. Still, Illumi combed his hair in front of his face. He stepped out and glanced at Hisoka's open door. He wasn't there.

Illumi remembered what it felt like to have Hisoka over him, inside him, holding him together.

 _I can't do it again._

 _But..._

 _I'm so weak. No. I'm not. It has a purpose. Hisoka is helping me. I can do it again because I'm in control I'm in control I'm the one calling the shots I'm making decisions and calculating costs I have value I matter to this family I will be the one to get Killua back because I know him best and I'm willing to give it all and I have less to lose than Mom or Dad I'll win I'll win I'll win!_

 _I'll_ win.

And another thought came unbidden into his mind, slapping him with calloused knuckles harsher than Dad's palm. _What was it you wanted to win again, anyways?_


	8. Chapter 7: Temperance

_I need a family to drive me crazy_

 _Call me out when I'm low and lazy_

 _It won't be perfect, but we'll be fine_

 _'Cause I've got your back, and you've got mine_

 _You got mine_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

Chrollo sipped his cup of earl grey lavender tea throughout Russian Literature. They were finishing Dostoyevsky's _Demons_ , discussing Kirillov's suicide. The dude killed himself to prove he was god, except in the end, he was scared and lost and all he had were his ideas. Some god. His ideas would fade out with time, because everyone else was dead because they were too attached to their own ideas... and on and on and on.

When the class ended, Chrollo glanced at Kurapika. Kurapika rushed by. He didn't seem talkative today. A shame. Chrollo strolled out of the building, checking his phone. He finished his tea and tossed it in a garbage can.

A hand landed on his shoulder. "Chrollo!"

He turned. Oito Hui Guo Rou grabbed his arm, eyes wide. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face. Tears swelled in her eyes. Woble whimpered in her other arm, a little hat pulled over her curls.

"What are you doing here?"? Chrollo demanded, yanking his arm away. If—something terrible must have happened.

"Illumi's parents came to visit and they hit him!" Oito cried out. "It's—"

 _Is that all?_ "I don't understand." _You'd endanger your child for that? And yourself? Are you stupid or did I misread you in the first place?_

"They're making him go out with them tonight and threatened him over Hisoka—can't you—"

"It's not my concern," Chrollo interrupted. "If it's a family matter—" _I told you, I don't even understand those! I don't care!_

"But what if they take Kalluto back with them? He's only ten, and if they're hitting their college-aged son in his own place than I can only imagine what they're doing to Kalluto in the privacy of their own mansion!"

"Guess we know why his other brother ran away," Chrollo said with a shrug. He tightened his coat around himself. Thunderclouds rolled in. "Kalluto seems like he can take care of himself if he needs to. And you shouldn't be on campus. Isn't it—"

Oito's jaw dropped. A look of disgust twisted her lips. "You just said it's not your concern about Illumi, so then what about me? Why am I your concern? Or are you just petty about Hisoka and trying to stick it to—Machi told me—"

 _That's bold, for someone receiving charity and hospitality._ Chrollo shook his head. "I have enough on my mind—and with—"

"Well, well," interrupted a voice, just like a fucking stereotypical villain. If Tserriednich had a mustache he would surely be twirling it. Chrollo could not be less amused. "Fancy meeting you here, Oito. Shall I presume this is your new lover? He is attractive."

Chrollo groaned internally. He turned around.

Oito recoiled. "You're despicable, Tserriednich."

"I'm not the one cheating on—"

"I'm not—"

"Don't even answer him," Chrollo said. "He's a tool."

"At least now my dad knows where his daughter is," said Tserriednich. "I'm sure he won't be very happy to hear who you're shacking up with."

"Why?" Chrollo asked. "We're actually all around her age. Your age, too. Maybe your father should do something or someone similar." Thunderclouds darkened, brewing. Rumbles echoed in the distance.

Oito cringed.

"If he files a kidnapping charge on Oito for taking that brat—"

"She'll counter with a domestic violence claim and a restraining order," Chrollo replied smoothly. "Good day." He turned on his heel.

Tserriednich stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Chrollo hated being shorter than him. But he could still take the bastard if he had to. He tensed, glaring. "Do you need something else?"

"I'm going to call my dad," said Tserriednich. "I bet he'll show up and—"

"I don't care," said Oito, her voice trembling. Woble whimpered, and she cupped the baby's head as if it was something precious. "I'm never setting foot in that house again, Tserriednich, and if I have to tell everyone you made a pass at me, I will. I don't care about my reputation; I care about my daughter."

Tserriednich's eyes burned and Chrollo smirked. Here, a weakness. He was adept at finding them. He was never the most physically powerful, so he had to go for the weak areas. Stomachs, groins, eyes. And as he grew, he learned to avoid physical fights by finding the weaknesses that didn't bleed visible blood. "So, that's what it is. Did your daddy not care about you? Were you an inconvenience?"

"Don't," Oito hissed.

The first drops of rain spattered Chrollo's forehead. "Let's go, Oito." He turned, and he spotted Kurapika watching, about ten meters behind them. And his face was crunched in fury.

And Chrollo had the cold sensation that somehow, in some way, he'd failed.

"Want me to bust your nose again?" Kurapika asked Tserriednich.

 _Stupid fire. Go out._ Chrollo glared at Kurapika.

"This is why you shouldn't have come to campus," Chrollo lectured as he escorted Oito back to the house. So much for studying in the library. His stomach soured. But Kurapika looked like he was tagging along, at least until they got off campus.

"I can't just sit there while a child's at risk," Oito retorted.

"Why not?" Chrollo asked. Lightning flashed above, but it still only sprinkled rain. "That's what most people do."

"I don't want to be like that."

"Fate doesn't give a damn what you want," Chrollo pointed out. He glanced at Kurapika.

"Don't you wish someone had spoken up for you?' Oito demanded, turning to face Chrollo and Kurapika.

"Yes," said Kurapika. "So I will be that sort of person, the kind who speaks up and acts justly."

"What I wish never matters," Chrollo said. "No one ever did." And he didn't want to talk about this further.

"So what are you going to do about that?" asked Oito. The wind set her hair flying around her face.

"It doesn't matter," Chrollo said. "It already happened, and for Kalluto, it doesn't matter. Like I said, he can take care of himself or he can't, and there's nothing I can do about that." He could tell Kurapika was watching him, and something squirmed inside, bubbling under his skin. _Want_.

 _I wish I had that kind of hope._

But fate hadn't deigned to give him that. He had never had a semblance of a family to spark that fire.

Oito's question from the night before lingered in his mind. "Don't risk yourself like that again. It's not just your head on the line; everyone in my house is on the line."

"Tserriednich doesn't have the balls to break into any place," Kurapika declared.

Oito actually chuckled. "True."

That wasn't what Chrollo meant. He did not want to risk anyone looking deeper into his house or its origins or anything that could lead to the discovery of the attic.

"See you," said Kurapika. "Oito, Leorio told me Cheadle wants to meet you tomorrow. She said the Mizaistom firm she works with might take your case pro bono. I met her before class; she seems very nice."

Oito's eyes bulged. "Really? Pro bono?"

And Cheadle was a woman. Well, a law student. Someone else must be a man, or she must be a lesbian, or—why on earth would someone take something pro bono? Or were they like Kurapika in that a dose of self-righteousness was what they lusted after most?

It must be.

 _What a pointless thing to lust after._

He thought of the attic, and the wind sounded as if it was whistling through his ears. _What do I want?_

 _That house._

 _And..._

 _And. And. And._ He didn't know whether he could complete that question, because to answer it would throw everything in turmoil. But he knew it, and Oito was right.

* * *

"Oito, what the hell were you thinking?" demanded a voice.

Oito glanced up. She was crouched on the floor, playing blocks with Woble. Her eyes found Phinks standing in Pakunoda's doorway, his arms folded.

"Chrollo told me you went to campus and Tserriednich knows you're here," Phinks continued, marching in. "And—"

"Sorry I'm an inconvenience," Oito responded. She swallowed. "It's really not what I wanted—I just—Kalluto was at risk, and—"

"Huh?" Phinks rubbed his temples.

"Kalluto what?" demanded Feitan, popping in behind Phinks. The two of them seemed to be best friends even if Oito doubted either of them would be man enough to admit it.

"His parents showed up and hit Illumi," Oito reported. "If they hit him, then I can only imagine what they do to Kalluto back at their house."

Feitan turned and stalked out of the room. Oito heard his boots pounding as he marched up the stairs, presumably to find Kalluto. She wondered if Illumi would be mad she said that. Probably. But she didn't regret it. "I am sorry for putting you at risk. If you want me to leave, I already offered—"

"That's not it," snapped Phinks, dragging his hand through his hair. He cussed and then cussed again when he realized he was swearing in front of the baby.

It was almost funny. "If she says that as her first word, I'll blame you," Oito managed.

Phinks smiled. He knelt. "You should think about yourself, too."

Woble tossed a block, squeaking. Oito grabbed it and stacked it. Woble knocked it down. _Stubborn_. She liked that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, going to campus was risky. Tserriednich tried to—and you had bruises so we all know Nasubi—"

"I can't risk a child," Oito said. "Kalluto, or Woble—I didn't know Chrollo and Tserriednich had class together. When it comes to a child's wellbeing, the world would be a better place if everyone prioritized it."

"No one does," Phinks pointed out. He glanced to the side, at the oriental rug on the floor. Oito had been sleeping on it, but her bedroll was rolled up for now. "Children are the easiest to trample on. Because they're dependent."

"So because it's common, I should just accept it?" Oito scowled. "It's wrong. I don't like it. It disgusts me." And it was true. She knew it.

"Though some of us survive well on the streets," Phinks said with a smirk.

"I remember her parents always complaining about too many mouths to feed, how if only abortions had been cheaper they would have had them, how unlucky they were the condoms broke," Oito said. Phinks stiffened.

She spent so many nights lying awake next to her sisters, imagining a castle, imagining herself a princess, someone coming to save her. When Nasubi flirted with her when she went to his office hours, she jumped at the chance. He held out a hand, and she was in no position to be choosy.

Instead, he might as well have been a dragon locking her up. She hadn't intended to get pregnant, but Nasubi refused condoms. She did want to finish school, but she wanted a good life before any of that, and he offered her one, so she signed herself up to be his wife.

But Woble hadn't signed herself up to be his daughter. She had no choice in the matter, and with Nasubi's rages and Tserriednich's flirtations… _I can't risk you._

 _I want to be the mother I didn't have._

 _No one wanted me, and I didn't plan you, but I'm glad I have you. I want you._

"Anyways, I'm dependent now," Oito said. "It's rather frustrating, you know. But I—" She stopped herself.

"You're—" Phinks cussed again. "Sorry!"

"Wash your mouth out with soap," she teased.

"I'm older than you."

She rolled her eyes. He was studying her, but she didn't feel creeped out by his attentions. Still, she couldn't be that sort of person right now. She had her daughter to focus on, and she herself knew it wasn't fair to have a kid so young, and she had to prove Tserriednich and Nasubi wrong. She was no slut.

In truth, she hadn't even been with anyone besides Nasubi.

 _It doesn't matter what I want._

Except that she wanted to have her own choices. And if the only choice she could make was to defend kids like Kalluto wherever she saw them, she'd make that choice.

"I'm meeting with a law student tomorrow," Oito said. "A friend of Kurapika's. They said they might take my case pro bono."

Phinks scratched his head. "That's good, right?"

She nodded. "I need a quick divorce." She hung her head. Twenty and already—already—

"You know, if you did need money," Phinks said. "I could help you out. I have some—saved."

Oito swallowed. "Thanks." Woble tossed a block at Phinks. He leaned over, rolling it towards her. She clapped her chubby palms together.

"If Tserriednich or Nasubi do show up here," said Phinks. "Between all of us, we can take him."

Oito snorted.

"We could send him a message," Phinks added.

"No," said Oito. "I mean, I hate him. I hate them both, but—Nasubi is Woble's father. I can't do that to her."

Phinks blinked.

"May I ask you something?"

"Sure," Phinks said, rubbing his chin.

"What happened to your eyebrows?"

Phinks let out a barking laugh. "They burned off once."

"What?" Oito yelped.

"Kidding. Feitan dared me to shave them when we were fifteen or so. We were drunk. And high on pot. So I did, and never looked back."

Oito arched her own brows.

"It's a unique look!"

"Don't you have to study?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't have an exam till next week."

"What are you studying?"

"History. What about you? I mean, when you were enrolled here."

"I was undeclared." Oito focused on Woble again. "If I ever get to go back, I'd like to be a teacher."

"You're be good at that."

Oito swallowed. _It doesn't matter, does it?_

But Phinks said it almost like it did.

* * *

"They can stay with me if something goes wrong," Melody said. "Komugi said it was okay. And so did Palm." They sat in her apartment, a chess board set up on the coffee table and stacks of music, a flute case, and a keyboard in the corner. The sound of chopping echoed from the kitchen, where Palm Siberia was.

Kurapika glanced at Killua, who buried his face in his hands. "I don't mean—to be a burden. I want to—I—"

"I'll file the papers this weekend," Cheadle insisted. Leorio sat next to his friend, her green hair and button nose giving her a cute appearance. "But I will warn that there might be repercussions legally for you. There's no way to avoid them."

"And then Mito said she'd volunteer to take in Killua and Alluka while they wait for the case to proceed," Gon piped up, sitting next to his best friend.

 _How did I get so involved?_ Kurapika wondered. But he couldn't help it. "You aren't a burden. Not one that we mind."

 _Aren't we all burdens?_

 _Does it matter? Even if you are, we'll help carry you. Because we want to._

Alluka rocked back and forth, flapping her hands. Kurapika still couldn't believe the stories she was telling about how her parents treated her. Just because she had a mental illness and was transgender, according to Killua. Alluka herself said she didn't know why. He could tell Killua was scared about Alluka having to make a report. But when she did, Killua said he would be with her, and Gon with him, and just—that inspired Kurapika.

"We're helping you because we want to," Gon declared.

Kurapika thought of Ging Freecss and the history homework he had waiting for him. Leorio urged him to write _fuck you_ in the middle of the paper, but Kurapika's GPA was not negotiable. _Your own father doesn't want to help you._

 _How do you cope with that?_

 _Do you think if you help more and more people like Killua, he'll notice?_

"Okay," said Cheadle, sticking her notebook into her backpack. "I think we're all set. Now I'm off to go see Oito Hui Guo Rou."

Kurapika swallowed.

"That's the one who married a professor, right?" called out a voice from the kitchen. Killua's nose wrinkled. Kurapika cringed.

Palm Siberia emerged, her hair tangled and matted.

"So?" asked Kurapika.

"So, it can happen," Palm declared, pointing her finger at Melody, who sighed. "Professor Knov—"

"Is not going to look twice at you so long as you look like that," Killua declared.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Palm demanded.

"You look like a stalker."

Hurt crossed Palm's face. And then her eyes narrowed.

"Kurapika, maybe take Killua back to your apartment," Melody said sweetly.

"Sounds good." Kurapika glanced at Killua, who winced.

In his apartment, Kurapika checked. He had a text from Chrollo _. Do you want to meet to discuss our project tonight? Unless you're going to Meruem's party._

 _Let's meet_ he responded, though he had told Leorio and the others he would go to the party, which was supposed to be quieter than normal. But he really shouldn't. He was just there, a burden, orbiting around them and hoping someone would suck him in, and yet everyone else seemed to be finding someone else to orbit around, or something, and he was a comet speeding out of control, heading for a crash, but he didn't even know when or where.

 _I just want it over already._

 _Study, study, study._ Then maybe he could earn back Pairo's respect, if he could afford a cure for Pairo's eyes. Earn anyone's respect, if they saw what he was doing. _I'd be good then, right?_

 _Mom? Dad?_

He thought of Palm and he thought of Gon. Just wanting that one person to love them. And the ones he wanted reassurance of their love—they were dead. He couldn't carry their burdens, assure them he loved them, not any more. And they couldn't help him.

For so long, he wanted to carry Pairo's burdens. Alleviate his suffering, atone for the accident that was his fault. Pairo's vision was damaged after pushing Kurapika out of the way of an oncoming car, because he hadn't looked both ways before crossing the street.

" _I'm sorry," Kurapika said. "You were right about Chrollo all along."_

" _It's okay," Pairo said, smiling at him, though his gaze couldn't and didn't meet Kurapika's. "You don't have to do everything for me, you know. I can make my own calls and so can you. I understand."_

And this year, too, he had been branching out. Away from Kurapika.

 _What if I never get to atone?_ The fear burned. _Come back, I still need you! I'm scared!_

 _Did you really consider me worth it, Pairo? Or is—it clear now that I was never worth it?_

 _And even if I'm not worth it…_

 _I wish someone would carry me._

He met Chrollo in the library. It was deserted on a Saturday night, gaps between the bookshelves gaping with shadows. "Tserriednich hasn't hunted you down yet, I see."

"Hasn't even tried," Chrollo said, settling in a nook by one of the windows. Kurapika sat across from him. "Have you started the book?"

"I finished it."

"Show-off."

"Did you start it?"

"I finished it, too."

"Hey!"

Chrollo snorted. He opened his laptop. "Well? What'd you think?"

"I think it's interesting," said Kurapika. "And sad." He related to Bazarov, empty until the end, but even then, he still wanted to tell Anna she was beautiful.

 _I want someone to tell they're beautiful_.

"You okay?" Chrollo asked.

"Headache," he lied.

"Your eyes are red," Chrollo said quietly.

Kurapika whipped towards the window. Sure enough, his reflection shone back at him, eyes scarlet and betraying him. He swore and banged his head back against the seat. "Want to know something?"

"What is it?"

"Killua and Alluka Zoldyck are staying at my place. And there's nothing that you can do about it, because tomorrow Cheadle is filing an abuse claim with the police. Oito wasn't exaggerating. Hitting Illumi is probably the least of what they do, from what I've heard." Kurapika tilted his head back. "Just be prepared."

Chrollo narrowed his eyes as if sensing the subtle barb in Kurapika's voice. "What if I go home and tell Illumi?"

"Won't matter."

"I won't," said Chrollo.

"I know."

"How?" Chrollo shoved his laptop to the side.

It bothered Kurapika that he couldn't explain exactly why he knew. "What if I then tell Illumi you knew the night before?"

"Are you that petty?"

"No," said Kurapika. "I wouldn't."

"I know."

"Do you care about the people in your house? Would they defend you, if you split down the middle, half on Illumi's side and angry at you for doing nothing, and half—"

"First of all, that's ludicrous because it's only a few hours, and second of all, I don't need them to defend me. We'd flip a coin. We're a unit. I own the house but we—"

"So you don't think you matter at all or do you think you're the only one who matters?"

"Do you think _you_ matter?"

"I want to," Kurapika said, swallowing. His eyes were no doubt glowing again. "I really want to. Fuck." He glared out the window, at the empty campus lawn. _Is that why you're a unit? So long as they're all okay, you're okay? If you can protect them, you can protect yourself?_ "But I don't want to be the only one."

 _What are you so afraid of?_

 _You want to matter._

 _Neither of us want to be Bazarov._ Kurapika lifted up his book. "So. Bazarov."


	9. Chapter 8: Gluttony

_We'll have tiny boxes for memories_

 _Open them up and we'll set them free_

 _There'll be bad days and some hard times_

 _But I'll keep your secrets, if you keep mine_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

When the news broke about Mizaistom's filing, Chrollo expected far more of a freak-out than Illumi gave him. Kalluto cried and Machi made him hot chocolate. Feitan offered to burn Kurapika's apartment to the ground and Chrollo had to tell him to desist. But Illumi simply tightened his jaw and nodded.

"What are you now, relieved you can't disappoint your parents?" Hisoka demanded.

"I _will_ get my brother back," Illumi said. "At least I now know where they are. My parents will hire good lawyers, and there's no way Alluka could survive a court testimony. Killua will have to..." His voice trailed off. He rose to stride up the stairs, and that was when Chrollo noticed a slight bruise under Illumi's ear, right where hair would almost always cover it. Like a hit. Hisoka's eyes narrowed slightly, and Chrollo could tell Hisoka had seen it as well.

"You suck at comforting your boyfriend," snapped Machi.

Hisoka flipped her off as he headed after Illumi.

"Are they even dating or is it just to piss off Danchou?" asked Shalnark, fiddling with his iPhone.

"Who knows," said Chrollo. "I don't care."

Shalnark and Machi exchanged a glance. Chrollo ignored them. A certain blond with scarlet eyes filled his mind. He texted Kurapika a warning about Feitan. _Idk how much i can control him._

Kurapika didn't respond, and Chrollo was almost disappointed.

After their talk that night in the library, Kurapika seemed to regret opening up. He drifted again, and as weeks slipped by and they barely talked, Chrollo felt himself increasingly irritated about the state of their project and Kurapika's ignoring of his texts and calls. Hisoka kept making out with Illumi whenever Chrollo was around and it was harder to focus on someone else now. Kalluto was basically a permanent fixture at the house and Chrollo found he didn't really mind. Oito's case seemed to be moving ahead with ease, and a restraining order against Tserriednich and Nasubi was surprisingly simple to attain.

Kurapika missed Russian Lit a week before their time to present. Pouf and Komugi presented on _Eugene Onegin_ , and when they finished without killing each other, Pouf even smiled.

 _How strange._ Komugi had even stuttered at a part, and Chrollo expected Pouf to pounce on that and use it to shred her. But he wasn't doing that. His lips didn't even vanish like he was resisting the urge.

 _Why would you change? How?_

People didn't change. Chrollo knew that. Hisoka was a bitch and would always be a bitch. Illumi would be an emotionless robot forever. Kurapika—Kurapika had always—

Chrollo finally texted Kurapika. _Meet in the library at 8 or I'm doing your project for you._

Kurapika didn't show. Chrollo cussed. Well, he'd made a vow. He pulled out the stupid novel and went to work outlining what Kurapika was supposed to do.

It was past nine when he felt someone kick him in his calf. He turned around, three empty teabags on the table in front of him. "I'm shocked."

"I fell asleep." Kurapika dropped down onto the plush chair across from him, tossing his bookbag.

"I already did your part."

Kurapika's eyes flashed red. "I don't need your charity."

"Of course not," snapped Chrollo. "It's not—"

"What are you trying to do? Why does it matter to you? All you have to do is go to Professor Hill and tell him I'm not pulling my weight and—"

"You're operating under the assumption we have a normal professor and frankly I don't think we do."

Kurapika nodded as if to say, _fair_. "Still. Let me flunk."

"Are you trying to drag me down with you? Because I want to graduate." Chrollo glared at him. "Are you that much of a masochist that you don't care what happens to yourself if you take me down with you?"

"Are you that much of a fucking narcissist to presume everything has to do with you?" Kurapika struggled to keep his voice low. He looked as if he'd like to punch Chrollo. Well, Chrollo wouldn't care. At least he'd see some fire.

 _Are you that much of a masochist, that you don't care what happens to yourself so long as he—_

 _Shut up!_

"Hypocrite," Chrollo choked out.

"I haven't been well," Kurapika said. "That's all. So—"

"If you're worried about me helping Illumi with—"

"I'm not."

"Liar."

"I'm not."

Chrollo gritted his teeth.

"Would you?" Kurapika asked, leaning forward. His earrings swung, rubies sparking in the dim overhead lighting. "Would you if he asked? Or are you not as loyal to your housemates as you think? Are they just people to help pay—"

"Shut up," Chrollo said.

"Do you want to earn something? Steal something? You can't," said Kurapika. "Not me. You haven't changed a bit. I know what you're trying to do."

Chrollo cussed. "Apologize?"

"No. You steal people because you don't want to face the truth: no one would want to be around you if they had other options." Kurapika kicked back and let out a barking laugh, something too crunchy and cynical to fit him. "Aren't you Kirillov? You'd give anything, even your own life, to prove something, right? That you matter? That you're god? That you're not alone?"

"You're a fucking drama queen," Chrollo snarled. "You—you—"

 _You're the same._

So many nights he curled up in the attic, filled with lots and lots of objects stolen, and what he focused on wasn't the antique carved wood or the jewels, but the sounds echoing from below, the murmurs, the safety blanket he felt enveloping him woven from laughs and the clinks of dishes.

 _But you believe you are._

 _If you sleep, then you'll forget it. For a little while._

"I'm sorry," Chrollo said.

Kurapika gaped.

"You know, for someone so self-aware, you're remarkably dense sometimes," said Chrollo. "You're talking to yourself, aren't you? And to me."

 _Because you don't want to be alone._

"I'm sorry I treated you like that," Chrollo said. "I was—wrong. And I want you to not fail—"

"Because you want to atone?"

"Because I don't think you're just a brain or just your grades, and I think you—" _You're not someone I can steal, or control._

 _I'm not a god, with you._

 _Why?_

 _You are me._

 _I never was a god._

 _But I don't have to just be a street boy, either._ Chrollo rubbed at his eyes. "I'm—I envy you."

Kurapika let out a guffaw. "Why?"

He met his eyes. Kurapika's were red, but his cheeks were flushed, the lights glowed against his golden hair, and his lips were full and trembling.

"My parents are _dead_ ," Kurapika pointed out. "And I—" He covered his face. "I killed them."

Chrollo froze. His breath deserted him. _What?_

"I was so worried about my grades," whispered Kurapika, clutching his cheeks and jaw so tightly his hands shook. It looked as if he was trying to fold up his face. "I was panicking. They were—driving to see me and—they went off the roads—it was icy." He doubled over. "It was _my_ fault. _I killed them."_

"No," Chrollo managed. Kurapika's words sat like a rock in his stomach, pinning him down. " _No_ , you didn't." His own words trying to drag the rock away.

"I _did_. I—I was trying to be pre-med then—I'm only literature now—I wanted to to cure Pairo's eyes—he's only impaired because of me, because he shoved me out of the way before a car—I always make foolish choices and they pay the price—I—"

"That isn't your fault," Chrollo whispered.

"How would _you_ know?" Kurapika demanded, tone lacerating him. "You don't have anyone."

 _But_. He thought of Machi, Feitan, Uvo, Shalnark, Kortopi, Phinks. "I do."

 _I hated you, Hisoka, because you made me realize that. That it would hurt if someone used me. That I could be hurt. That I could bleed._ He clapped his hands over his mouth.

"I killed them," Kurapika croaked. "I did. It's on me. And then—now I'm letting Pairo down by—and I yelled at him when he warned me about you, and now I switched my major, and—"

"Do you resent him?" Chrollo eked out.

"Huh?"

"Pairo," Chrollo said. "Do you resent him, for keeping you chained with this guilt?"

"No!" Kurapika glared. "Of course not! I—I—I want to help because—"

"You want to atone."

"No! I mean—" Kurapika gulped. "Maybe, but I also—he's my cousin—he's my dearest friend—I love him."

There it was. Chrollo swallowed. "And can't you imagine, then, that maybe they feel the same way about you? That Pairo doesn't care what you can do for him, but he just cares about you? That your parents, had they survived, wouldn't resent wanting to help you? That they just want you to be happy? That that's why they drove to meet you? That you didn't pull them here via a magical spell but they just wanted to, _because they loved you?_ " His voice rose in octaves. He planted his hands on the desk and glared at Kuarpika.

"Quiet!" bellowed the librarian from around the corner.

The wind whooshed out of Chrollo. He dropped back onto his eat. He should apologize. No. He didn't want to.

 _I want—that._

 _I can't steal it. I can't earn it, even. You surely haven't._

 _I'm so jealous._

Kurapika covered his eyes. His shoulders shook. A sob broke through his lips.

Chrollo got to his feet. His legs felt weak.

"I hope so," Kurapika managed. "I really, really hope so."

Chrollo looked down. He reached out, and wrapped his arms around Kurapika, and Kurapika didn't push him away. "I'm not wrong."

Kurapika snorted.

"You're loved," Chrollo said, his voice cracking. "They love you. They all do. You are—loved. You are so loved."

 _If someday, I can be so loved—_

 _Either way._

 _Either way, I'm—_

 _If it can come to you, maybe someday. Maybe. For me, someone will._

* * *

This was it. She had her one shot to get this to work. She needed to try.

But he just told her, " _good job."_

And it wasn't enough. Palm stared after Professor Knov.

 _"You have talent," he'd told her when she toured the campus. "You should apply here."_

Everyone else told her she was crazy, that she'd never get anywhere thanks to her personality, her habits of scratching herself until she bled, the weird scar she had on her forehead.

 _I just want to matter to you. I want to be special. Is that so wrong?_

"He said 'good job,'" snapped a voice to her left. "What more do you want or need?"

She turned. An overweight boy from her class glowered at her. "You're blocking the door."

Palm backed away, clawing at her wrists. A prick, and some blood dribbled out. She tried to trace a teardrop with the crimson liquid, a fake tattoo, a fake wound, on her alabaster skin. "You're Killua's brother."

He gaped at her. "You know him?"

She nodded. "Gon is my friend."

"Well, if you see him, tell him to go fuck himself, the spoiled brat." Milluki snorted. The sound echoed in the empty lecture hall.

Her backpack hung heavy on her shoulder. "I will not tell them that!"

"I meant Killua, not Gon, and as a college student if you have a crush on him that's creepy, but then again, don't you have a crush on a professor?"

"I don't!" Gon just trusted her. And he didn't treat her like a sideshow freak. And he said he would help her. Killua didn't trust her. "I don't even like your brother. He's a rude little brat. Your sister's nice, though." She reminded Palm of herself, in some ways. Constantly begging Killua for approval, for a pat on the head and a hug and a game of shiratori.

Milluki snorted. "Maybe you're not crazy after all. Though that's blasphemy in our family." He marched past her. "I got a video game to play."

"I hope you lose!" she hollered, not even certain why. "Why do you hate your brother?" She didn't have siblings. If she did, she didn't think she'd hate them. It just kind of seemed antithetical to the point of having a family.

"I don't!" yelled Milluki. "He's just a bitch who only thinks of himself and our parents only think of him, so. And my other siblings only think of him, too, and my grandfather, and no one gives a shit about anyone else. He's talented but he's not all it means to be a Zoldyck."

"A dick with a soul? That's what Gon jokes."

"Hey!" Milluki glared at her. "No, as in Zoldyck Industries."

"I don't know what that is," Palm said, rubbing her wrists together. They stung, old scratches opening up. "Killua doesn't like it, at any rate. And I don't care."

Milluki left then, without another word, leaving her standing there. Palm contemplated throwing her phone after him but decided it was better used to text Gon, tell him she'd talked to Killua's brother. He might see her as trying for something good then. He might see her as good, then. He might believe she could be good, then. Maybe. May it be.

"You're stupid," said a voice behind her.

Palm spun. A blond girl with two scars over her face stood to her left, a sad look on her face. "Who are you?"

"Morena Prudo," said the woman, holding out her hand. Palm shook it, leaving Morena's smeared with blood. Morena didn't seem to mind. Apparently she didn't care about AIDS or hepatis. Not that Palm had those. Not that she knew of, anyways. "You like people you can't be with, is that it?"

"Huh?" Palm frowned.

"I think it's because if you were with someone you liked, they wouldn't like you. Because they'd get to know you, and if they knew you, they'd know you're trash." Morena smirked.

Palm grabbed her switchblade, flipping it open.

"Don't bother," said Morena. "Look, I'm just talking to you because I need you for something."

"Huh?" Palm's hand shook.

"Someone told me they'd get me something I need if I get them something they need," said Morena. "So you see, really it's a chain of helping each other if you're an optimist or using each other if you're a pessimist or a realist." She leaned forward. "I need to get into Meruem's party this weekend, and I don't have a key to the dorm and Meruem hates the guy I'm going with. Komugi's your roommate and his girlfriend, so I figured it's the perfect excuse. I'll sit next to you in class next week so you won't be alone."

* * *

"Killua doesn't want to see me either!" wailed Kalluto. "Not as long as I'm with Illumi!"

Oito turned from where she had been making chai for herself and hot chocolate for Machi, who was trying to study for an exam and recover from the flu at the same time.

"I understand about Illumi, but me? What did I do to him?" Kalluto dropped onto the floor and sobbed.

Oito swallowed. Truthfully, from what she knew, the Zoldycks had better not ever get custody of their kids back. And Killua probably couldn't trust Kalluto. Illumi seemed to be doing a good job of parenting him so far, and certainly wasn't hitting him, but—

"He only cares about Alluka," Kalluto sniffled as Machi offered him chocolate. He slapped it away. "I keep—I try to dress like her, but right, properly, and he still—likes her more—I can't—"

"I know how you feel," Oito said. "I used to try to earn my older brother's respect, too." And then she couldn't, so she focused on finding someone to save her.

Kalluto sobbed into his arms. Machi cussed and eased herself off the kitchen chair and onto the floor, patting his shoulder. "I'd do anything—to just have him as my brother again."

"Even if that meant accepting Alluka?" asked Oito.

Kalluto blinked. "She's—"

"If Killua likes her, maybe try to see why," Oito suggested. From what she heard, Alluka was a sweet girl whose parents couldn't stand that she was transgender and mentally ill. They couldn't risk their reputation, and locked her up and were surprised when she didn't thrive. And yet according to Cheadle, Alluka was doing well in Mito Freecss' home. She was sweet, and kind.

 _You just weren't what your parents wanted, sweet girl. It wasn't you. You are what the world needs from you, though._

 _And same to you, Kalluto._

 _It's so lonely without people to comfort you, though._ Oito swallowed.

"Then my parents won't want me," said Kalluto, folding his arms around himself. "I just want—"

 _To be wanted._

Kalluto headed up the stairs to find Illumi.

"Sucks when you think his parents are shitty but you also want him to be happy," Machi commented.

"He deserves better," said Oito. "You all did. Do." No one here had a happy childhood, that much she'd gathered. Hisoka's inability to talk about it only confirmed it for him.

Machi shrugged. "Either way, we've got what we've got."

"Yes," said Oito. "But you deserve more. That's why I'm—I'm going to give Woble what I can. I won't be a perfect mom, but if she knows I love her no matter what she does—"

Machi snorted. "Is that even possible?"

Oito swallowed. She used to answer yes, unequivocally. And now… Nasubi promised to love her, and he didn't. "I want it to be. So I'll do my part."

Machi studied her. "Huh." She poured herself a glass of water and dumped the rest of the hot chocolate down the sink. "Too rich. Damn flu."

Oito sipped her chai.

"Did you love her from the moment you knew about her?" asked Machi. "Or did you see her as a way to get Nasubi, or—I'm not trying to offend, I'm just—"

"No," said Oito. "I understand. I don't know. I didn't want to get pregnant. I wanted to finish school." She looked at Machi. "But I can't imagine my life without her. Nor would I want to."

"If you could go back," Machi said. "Would—"

"I wouldn't have a kid so young," Oito said. "So I'm glad I can't go back." Too many choices wouldn't be a good thing, she supposed. But the choices she could make—she left Nasubi. _I'm trying, Woble._

 _Please don't resent me when you get older._

It was her worst fear. What if her love for Woble wasn't enough?

Machi nodded.

"You know," Oito said. "When I found out—I was terrified. My parents told me to have the abortion or not to bother coming home because they sure as hell weren't going to support me and a kid. I told them Nasubi wanted me to marry him and they said all the better then. They didn't visit when I had her."

 _Why did you have me, then?_

She didn't understand, still. Did they want to love her, but life got in the way? Or was she a tool to keep her parents together, or just an inevitable product?

But she wanted them to love her.

 _I never want Woble to question that I love her._

 _I can do better. I will._

 _I have to._

* * *

The bickering was getting annoying. Hisoka scowled up at the glow-in-the-dark stars he'd bought when he first moved in here and stuck to the ceiling of his room. They'd never really worked, which was somewhat disappointing. Kids everywhere must cry about it.

 _"But I don't want to!" protested Kalluto._

Time to rescue Illumi. Besides, Illumi had said he'd go out with Hisoka that night. "Coming to the party?" Hisoka asked, pausing in Illumi's room. Illumi and Kalluto had been arguing loudly about Killua.

The past few weeks, Illumi had repeatedly shied away from him, but still put on a show around Chrollo. And twice more, he'd kissed Hisoka, and then lost control and fucked him or let Hisoka fuck him. Hisoka could no longer tell if they were fake dating or friends with benefits, or if Illumi liked him or now was too distracted with Killua. He wasn't sure it mattered. They were both still doing it to irk Chrollo. As long as Illumi held up that end of the bargain, there was no reason to get upset. And Illumi was fun to be around.

"I can't," Illumi said, gesturing to Kalluto, who pouted.

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "Chrollo will be there."

"I apologize." Illumi turned away.

 _Fine_. Hisoka sighed. He didn't know what to do with this situation. Illumi didn't seem to understand that Killua wanted nothing to do with him. "Why are you so afraid that having a little fun will make Killua hate you more? That'd be kind of hard."

Illumi stiffened. "He does not hate me."

Hisoka played with his earring. Kalluto glared.

"I need to be a responsible brother with—"

"Kalluto? Tell me, did you spare a thought for poor Alluka? It seems like Killua's quite the headache and quite the risk to your family reputation as it currently stands, and yet I don't see any conversations about locking him in a basement whenever or if-ever your family gets back together."

"Hey!" exclaimed Kalluto. Illumi just gaped at him.

"Or are you just jealous Killua would rather be with Alluka than you?"

Illumi rose. "Hisoka." His voice sounded dark. "I am worried Killua has a misplaced sense of responsibility—"

"My God, look in a mirror," Hisoka retorted.

"I care about my brothers," Illumi snapped. "You care about nothing and no one besides your dick."

Kalluto's jaw dropped. Illumi's face colored. Hisoka rolled his eyes. "I'll see you later."

"Make sure you're in a better humor," Illumi told him.

"Why do you even care about him?" asked Kalluto.

Hisoka ignored them as he pounded down the stairs. He didn't _need_ anyone to care about him. As long as he was satisfied, and happy. Being cared for was overrated. He'd survived thus far without a trace of it.

 _Survive. Survive. Exist._

Hisoka made it to the party and chugged two beers. They barely tinged his head with any giddiness. And he wanted it to. He wanted to be so drunk he felt like he was floating, he wanted to have the sensation of flying in dreams, that feeling he was constantly chasing, the feeling that he used to have when he slept in a safe place or stole brandy or bungee gum as a kid, the feeling that it would all be okay, just because he had something to make him smile.

He wanted to smile.

 _Killua's not making you smile, so why are you bothering? Kalluto isn't, Alluka isn't, Milluki isn't, your parents hit you, and_ still _._

 _Are you so desperate? What for, Illumi?_ Sparks of frustration stung as Hisoka tried a third beer.

A girl with long, dark hair glared at him.

"Did we do it once?" Hisoka asked, exasperated as he remembered Illumi striking the man who whined before classes started.

"No. I'm a friend of Gon and Killua's," said the girl. "Palm. You hang out with Illumi. I don't like you."

"Join the club." Hisoka raised his cup. "Bye."

"Why don't you convince him to do the right thing?" Palm asked. "And testify against his parents. You know he hit—"

"What do you care?" demanded Hisoka. "And you clearly don't know Illumi. That would humiliate him." He stopped himself. Illumi wouldn't treat Alluka well, anyways. And if he told Illumi to do that, he'd lose Illumi and the man was continually surprising him and he was—he still believed everything would be okay. In spite of overwhelming evidence that his family was over.

 _I can't tell if you're an idiot or a miracle._

Where was it, that goddamn feeling? He'd have to chug another drink and he didn't feel like it.

Palm was gone. Instead, a woman with two scars over her eye smiled at him. "Did we do it?" Hisoka asked.

Behind her, he spotted someone else. Chrollo. Looking for—someone. Something.

 _I want everything to be okay._

 _I want to be distracted, because it's never been okay._

"We could," said the girl, and that was when Hisoka leaned down to kiss her. Illumi wasn't here, but at least she was, at least lips were warm on his and he was getting hard, and Chrollo was watching, and why why why was this fucking pinching feeling still pressing into each one of his joints instead of the feeling of smiling, of freedom, of nothing but—but— _me_ —nothing—

" _Someone like you is nothing but trash," his high school guidance counselor told him, so Hisoka hacked his computer and spread the news that the man had been using school hours to watch porn._

" _Nothing but fighting, fucking, and fun," he'd responded, already formulating his plan._

The girl pushed him away, and that was when Hisoka saw, of all people, not Chrollo but fucking Tserriednich, and a cell phone videotaping.

"Now," said Tserriednich as he approached. "How about you give me access to that whore shacking up at your place? She can't be good enough for someone like you to—"

 _Oito_. "Or what?" Hisoka demanded. "You'll tell Illumi? We're just—it's an open relationship." A fake one. Friends with benefits.

Like him and Chrollo…

 _Fuck_. He hated this. He felt fucking trapped. This wasn't right. He wasn't allowed to be caged up. _Never, never—fuck you—_

He looked for Chrollo, but he was gone. Good—Hisoka couldn't turn to him anyways, but—

It didn't matter.

"So," said Tserriednich. "Why don't you text me—"

"No," Hisoka said. "Illumi will be fine. You can't control me, and I'm not a rapist, and someday someone will cut off your dick and I'll laugh." He pushed his way through the crowd, and now his head was spinning, and the floor undulating, and he woke up when dawn's orange fingers pawed his face, face-down on the grass on the edge of campus.

"Dude, you're lucky no one called the cops," called a landscaper.

Hisoka sat up, head pounding. He rubbed his temples. And all he could think of was that he was glad Chrollo hadn't seen him, and Illumi's taste when he lay pressed against Hisoka, the way his eyes stayed open.

Revenge on Chrollo. By taunting him with his feelings.

 _I created the exact same situation._ No, not quite the exact same.

 _The joke was on me._


	10. Chapter 9: Wrath

**Warning for a mention of sexual assault this chapter. It is not detailed and nothing that didn't happen in canon, but still please be forewarned if that could be triggering.**

 **Please enjoy cameos from the Yu Yu Hakusho cast. :D**

* * *

 _You are the memory that won't ever lapse_

 _When twenty-five years have suddenly passed_

 _Wherever you take me, it's clear I will go_

 _Your love's the one love that I need to know_

 _Your love's the one love that I need to know_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls  
_

* * *

 _I hate parties._

Kurapika glanced at Leorio. He'd come only to assure his friend that he wasn't going to spend the night curled up in his room wishing he was dead like he'd spent almost every night the past few weeks.

 _You are loved._

How strange the man who'd convinced him he wasn't was now insisting he was.

No, it wasn't all Chrollo. _I'd always felt that way._

Why? Pairo had never done anything to convince him of that. _I—I—_

 _Am I just broken?_ Did fate or God or anything, anyone out there, deal him a shitty hand, a broken mind, a body beaten? _But I don't want that!_

 _Does it matter?_

Kurapika grabbed a beer and sipped it. He didn't like the fizz. Carbonation sucked.

"Having fun?" a voice asked next to him. He turned. Chrollo stood there, staring into a half-empty beer as if it'd personally offended him.

Kurapika arched his eyebrows.

Chrollo laughed. He tilted the beer towards his lips. "Me neither."

"How bad is it if I said I'd rather be working on our project?" Kurapika asked. He watched as Komugi, Meruem, and Pouf, of all people, laughed together in a corner. He did not understand. _But Pouf hated her._

"Clearly you're ancient and about to keel over."

"Clearly you feel the same way," Kurapika replied.

Chrollo tilted his head. "Fair. Want to get out of here?"

"Please." Kurapika set his barely-touched beer down. Youpi snatched it up almost immediately.

He followed Chrollo outside, into the damp air. It had rained earlier, but stopped now. Chrollo sat on the steps leading up to the dorm apartments, and Kurapika dropped down next to him. He hunched over.

"I always found parties stupid," Chrollo said. "But Uvo likes them, since he met Shalnark at one of them. So I hold them sometimes. But there are all these people, and everyone's more interested in drinking and dancing and fucking and sometimes fighting than each other."

Kurapika leaned back against the side railing. It jabbed into his spine. "You're now a ghost. An ancient philosopher, I'm sure."

Chrollo snorted.

"You know," said Kurapika. "For someone so interested in people, or so it seems, you sure do only want to use them a lot."

Chrollo folded his arms. "I am sorry."

"What about Hisoka?" asked Kurapika. "Were you just using him?"

"Yes. I guess there is a part of me that can—understand that kind of appeal. People are mostly useful, after all, and if they aren't, then we don't want anything to do with them."

"Not true," said Kurapika. "How am I useful to you? And yet you're talking to me."

Chrollo tilted his head. "Maybe you're interesting to talk to."

The moon broke out from behind the clouds, casting the lawn with a silver glow. Kurapika smiled. "It's peaceful out here."

Chrollo sucked in his breath. He turned to the lawn. "Yeah, it is."

"We had a huge yard growing up. In Lukso. We used to go camping."

"I never saw a yard until I left Meteor City," Chrollo said. "It was—I mean, there were yards, but they were filled with dried crabgrass and dust." He exhaled. "Lukso sounds beautiful."

"You should go, sometime," Kurapika said.

"I'd like to." Chrollo tilted his head back. The moon sparkled against his orb earrings. "There's so much I want to experience, you know. I think—when I die, I want to at least say I lived a full life, you know?"

 _You don't have to experience everything to live. You're alive, here. You're alive, now._

 _I hope so, anyways. Because I want to be._

"Yeah," Kurapika said thickly. "I know."

Chrollo studied him.

"What?" Kurapika demanded.

"Your eyes are red again."

"Oh." Kurapika touched his lids. "Well, it's automatic. With emotions."

"What do you feel right now?"

"I don't know." He swallowed. The clouds pulled back even more. "Want a picture, so you can say you saw them?"

"No," said Chrollo. He covered his mouth with his hand. "You know, Kurapika, your eyes are the least special thing about you."

"Huh?" Kurapika jolted forward, sitting up straight. He gaped.

"I'm sorry," Chrollo said. "I fucked up. I—"

 _What are you up to?_ He couldn't fathom it. Or he could, and he didn't understand. No, he did.

 _You want to be heard._

His hand reached out, landing on Chrollo's shoulder. "I forgive you," Kurapika said, and as he said it, a blanket fell over him. It became true. "You don't have to bring it up, anymore."

Chrollo swallowed. "I never thought of—I mean, this—shame thing—it kinda sucks. But I never really allowed myself to feel it until you, and—"

" _You don't have to,"_ Kurapika snapped. He realized how close they were, then. Inches apart. He wanted to convince Chrollo of his words.

I _don't have to._ He saw himself, reflected in Chrollo's eyes, and his own irises a brightening red.

Kurapika wasn't sure which one of them closed the distance between them first. All he knew was that he felt Chrollo's hand on the back of his neck, gentle, and his lips on his, and they were soft at first, and then hungry. Kurapika broke in. Their teeth clacked, and then their mouths were open, grasping, reaching, and his arms were around Chrollo's shoulders, pulling him closer. His fingers dug through the fake fur on the top of his ridiculous coat. His other arm snaked up, digging through Chrollo's perfect hair, mussing it up. One of Chrollo's hands slid up and down his side. The other clutched his head, as if afraid Kurapika would vanish.

He was warm, against Kurapika. And his eyes, they were closed, and Kurapika wanted them open. He jerked away. Chrollo panted, gaze focusing, and Kurapika moved to his neck. Chrollo sucked in his breath.

Chrollo lifted Kurapika's chin, pressing his forehead against Kurapika's, studying his eyes as if they were holy, as if asking: _do you really want this? Remember who you are kissing?_

 _I know._

 _I know, and I want you._

Chrollo wrapped his arms around Kurapika, resting his head on his shoulder. He breathed deep, as if trying to memorize Kurapika's scent. Kurapika closed his eyes. His pulse pounded, and every nerve felt like it stood at attention, alive.

Footsteps echoed, heading towards the dorm. Chrollo and Kurapika jerked away from each other.

"Hey," called a voice. "Do you know where this girl lives?"

Kurapika's eyes bulged. _Palm_. Her hair was a mess, and her dress was torn. She leaned against a girl with a metal arm. Grad students, Kurapika realized.

"She said she lived here," said a boy with long red hair. "We found her running out of Professor Bizeff's office—she said she didn't want to call the police and then she collapsed."

"Fuck," Kurapika breathed. "She's a—friend of mine." Of his friends, but close enough. He reached for her. She stumbled.

"Did she say what happened?" asked Chrollo, eyes wide.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked a boy with a similar wrapping over his forehead. Was he concealing a tattoo too? "Bizeff is a creep."

"Isn't your dad the provost?" Chrollo asked.

"And an asshole too," replied the boy. "I'm sorry."

A boy who looked like Feitan but even shorter helped Kurapika support Palm. She moaned. "You're safe," Kurapika encouraged her. His throat closed up. He could—he could—

"If she wants to make a report, we'd help," said a girl with teal hair, holding the hand of a boy with orange hair. "But she said she didn't, but she's also not really with it right now, so—"

"Here's my contact info," said the red-haired boy. He handed Kurapika a slip of paper with numerous names on it. _Kurama_.

"Thanks." Kurapika swallowed.

"As another warning," said a boy with slicked-back hair. "You should know rumor has it that asshat films these things."

Chrollo swore. Kurapika gritted his teeth. He and Chrollo maneuvered Palm into the dorm. Kurapika texted Melody, who met them in the doorway. Tears filled her eyes.

Kurapika trembled. Part of him was still floating from kissing Chrollo, but he couldn't give into it, not when something this atrocious had happened. He had to chain himself down.

 _There's no justice._

* * *

Illumi woke up to a knock on his door. Kalluto sat up, blinking as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. Illumi staggered towards the door. It was barely seven in the morning, on a weekend no less.

Chrollo stood there, bags under his eyes. "Can we talk?" he requested.

Illumi nodded, stifling a yawn.

" _Downstairs_ ," Chrollo added, a meaningful glance past Illumi towards Kalluto.

Illumi followed him down to the kitchen. He headed for the coffee machine. Chrollo filled the tea kettle instead. Whatever.

"If Kalluto is too expensive, I am more than happy to pay extra rent," Illumi said, breaking the silence.

Chrollo's eyes widened. "Oh. That's—not it at all. Kalluto is—we like having him around. I don't know him well, but I know Feitan and Machi like him, and Oito—"

"Then what's wrong?" Illumi frowned. "I know Oito said—" He exhaled. "Or is it Hisoka?" He was still irked with Hisoka's temper tantrum the night before. For fake dating, Hisoka sure was taking it seriously. He wondered if he would have to come clean with Chrollo. Would that make Chrollo angry?

"It's nothing to do with them. I have a favor to ask." Chrollo cleared his throat. "But you cannot repeat this to anyone."

The coffee machine bubbled. "What is it?"

"Your brother's a hacker, right?"

"He fancies himself one," Illumi allowed. Truthfully, he had no idea of Milluki's abilities and their extent. He just knew what Milluki said, and that Milluki had missed half his classes again this week, and when Illumi knocked on his door he found the boy still asleep at three in the afternoon.

"I need him to hack into someone's computer. Someone—assaulted a friend of a friend last night, and there may be video, and if there is—"

Illumi almost dropped the mug he was holding. "You are kidding."

Chrollo met his gaze, jaw set and Adam's apple bobbing.

 _You're not_. Illumi turned away. "I can tell him to contact you."

"Thank you." Chrollo rose, pouring himself a mug of tea. "And Illumi?"

He poured the coffee, sipping it boiling. The sting felt familiar.

"If Hisoka makes you happy, I'm happy for you." Chrollo turned and headed for the stairs. Somewhere in the house, someone else threw up. Probably drunk.

 _Happy?_ Illumi studied the mug of coffee. He didn't even know what that meant. How was he supposed to be happy, with his family shattered, with his own joints stretched and cracking form the strain of trying to hold them together?

He pulled out his phone and called Milluki, intending to leave a voice message. To his surprise, Milluki answered. "Aniki?"

"I have something to ask you," said Illumi. "And—"

"Is it what Killua just called to ask me? Little brat finally gets in contact and—"

Illumi deflated. He leaned back against the cabinet. "Killua just called _you?"_

 _Killua…_

 _I want to hear your voice._ His jaw tightened. He bit back a cry. _Don't I matter, Killua, to you? Don't I matter? Don't I matter at all, to anyone?_

"Yeah, asking for help for a friend of his whom Professor Bizeff—"

"Chrollo just asked me to call about the same thing," Illumi said.

"Oh. Well, I guess Kurapika asked Killua, or whatever. Kil's got so many friends now."

 _I was trying to do the same thing as you, Killua. I'm not awful, see?_

 _Why can't you see me?_

"What'd they offer you?" Milluki laughed. "We all know you wouldn't do anything unless there was direct benefit for you in it. You're like me."

"Is that why you don't leave your room anymore? No direct benefit?" Illumi snapped. His throat throbbed.

"Fuck you."

Illumi hung up. Chrollo's voice still echoed.

 _Happy_.

 _If I was happy, I would be—I would—matter._

But Killua mattered to him, and Killua refused to let that make him happy. Illumi's head stung just thinking about it. He had no idea. No clue. What on earth would make him happy? Could anything?

 _I—think I want to be._

He liked spending time with Hisoka. Sex, and talking. Joking. He helped. He tried. In his own way.

 _Mom, Dad, did I ever make you happy? When you found out you were having me? Or did I just make you sick from the get-go?_

 _Killua doesn't love me. But if you do…_

His throat stung as he remembered burning coffee surging down his throat, how he tried to scream and instead choked, how Grandpa came into his room and stroked his hair, tried to get him to eat ice cream, and he couldn't because his throat was too raw and bloody. They wouldn't let Killua see him, and he couldn't talk enough to ask. But Killua had snuck in in the evening, anyways. He _wanted_ to see Illumi then.

" _He's a strong kid," Dad said. "He'll be all right."_

And in that moment, he was happy. Because to his father, he was strong. Strong enough to endure coffee being poured down his throat.

He reached out and brewed another cup of coffee. Not for himself. He dumped cream and sugar into it, enough to make his nose wrinkle.

Killua liked cream in his, too.

He couldn't fight for Killua now, and it'd been forever since he fought for himself. But this—this might make him happy. Milluki would be proved wrong, even if he never knew it. He carried it up the stairs and into Hisoka's room. Hisoka was asleep, reeking of vomit. Drunk. Illumi placed the mug on the nightstand.

Illumi turned to leave and suddenly realized golden eyes were watching him. He scowled. "You could have told me you were awake."

"I feel like I'm dead." Hisoka moaned, sitting up. Leaves stuck to his hair.

"What time did you get back?"

"Two hours ago." Hisoka scowled, grabbing the coffee. "Thanks."

Illumi nodded.

"Did Chrollo see you making the coffee?"

"No," said Illumi. Well, Chrollo had, but not this cup for Hisoka.

Hisoka frowned.

"I called Milluki," said Illumi. "To ask a favor, and Killua had already asked." He explained, though he left the details out.

"What do you want me to do?" Hisoka asked.

"I—" Illumi shut his mouth. _I don't know._

 _Listen._

 _Be here._

 _Breathe._

"At least that means you are not so selfish as Killua might think," Hisoka said, swallowing. "You could ask Milluki to tell him. Or you could tell him yourself."

Illumi didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he wanted to, and he couldn't explain that. _Am I giving up? Am I dying?_

"It's good coffee," Hisoka muttered. "Thanks." He exhaled. "Illumi, I need to tell—"

Illumi opened his mouth. His phone buzzed, and he checked it.

An unknown number. _Isnt this your bf?_ And a picture. Of Hisoka kissing some blond girl, in the clothes he wore last night, the clothes he wore still.

 _Oh._

Well, it wasn't as if it was a big deal. They were fake dating anyways. Of course Hisoka went out looking for somewhere else, someone else, to make love—to—

"Look," he said to Hisoka, showing him the text. "Guess we convinced another one of your enemies, though I'm quite certain this isn't Chrollo. Do you even know which enemy it is?" His voice came even so easily. No hesitations. No breaks.

"Fuck," Hisoka breathed. "Illumi, this is what I wanted to tell—"

"You've nothing to report," Illumi said, getting to his feet. His legs felt heavy, as if his bones had been replaced by metal rods. "It was only fake dating anyways. You're free to enjoy yourself with other people."

Hisoka gaped at him. "Illumi—"

"You don't have to act like you cheated," Illumi said. "You didn't."

"I pushed her away."

"Why? She's pretty."

"Don't you care?" Hisoka burst out.

"No. You set the rules yourself." _You don't care. You don't. You never did. I shouldn't have._

 _No one cares._

 _I matter to no one and nothing._

That was okay. He could still keep going. He'd made it thus far. And presuming Hisoka was right and Killua had not loved him, maybe not ever—well, he was still here, wasn't it? Still breathing. Still a Zoldyck.

"I don't—" Hisoka swore. "Illumi, you—I—don't give me that half-assed shit; that's not the Illumi I want to see, okay? If you're upset, I—"

"I'm not," Illumi said. "It doesn't matter, Hisoka. We'll still kiss and fuck to annoy Chrollo." His body didn't matter, his heart didn't, nothing did.

"Stop it!" Hisoka grabbed him. "You care, Illumi! I fucked up, and I—"

"It's fake dating," Illumi said. "I never thought otherwise."

Hisoka released him, clutching his head. "You're a fucking _liar_ , you know that, Illumi?"

"This whole arrangement was for a lie. I don't see the insult there. And you're a narcissist."

Hisoka tightened his jaw. His chest heaved. "She kissed—I pushed her away."

"I said it changes nothing," Illumi said. "I'll still do what you want, so long as you help me with Killua."

"I don't want you to do what—I want you to do what you want!" Hisoka shouted. "I want to be—what you—"

"You are not making sense."

"I want you to hate me, be mad at me, I know you have—"

 _I want to matter._

 _You do too._

 _We can't. I don't. I hope you do._ This heaviness settling into his shoulders… _you do matter, Hisoka._

"For fuck's sake, Illumi—"

"I think you need to calm down," Illumi told him. "I'll be in my room." He turned to sweep out and almost bumped straight into Chrollo, who was gaping at the door. "Oh dear."

"Fuck," said Hisoka from behind him. "Illumi—please—"

"I suppose the jig is up," Illumi stated without glancing back at him. "If you enjoy it enough, I'll still sleep with you if you help me." He slammed the door and found Kalluto gazing at him in horror.

 _Fuck!_

 _I have no one's respect._

 _I am…_

 _I want…_

"Time to study," Illumi said to Kalluto, but when Kalluto made no move towards the books, his jaw wouldn't open again. He stood there, staring at his bed, rumpled from the rush to get up when Chrollo had knocked.

"Illu-nii," said Kalluto, voice trembling. "I'm sorry."

"No need," Illumi stated. _Stop! Stop sto p st op s top. I don't want this!_

And then he felt arms around him. He stiffened. Kalluto, hugging him.

They did not hug. It was not necessary.

"I want my brothers back," Kalluto said. " _All_ of them. I like this—I like this house, I like you in this house, I like this fake family and I don't even care if it's fake because to me what I feel is real, and I like it. You feel too, don't you, Illumi?" He was crying. "You like it here. I'm sorry I told Mom and Dad. I'm sorry Dad hit you. I'm sorry I'm not enough for Killua or you or—"

"Don't say that!" Illumi grabbed his youngest brother. "You _are_ enough. You are."

 _I'm—thank you—you're here and I—_

He felt something wet on his cheeks. _Huh?_

And then he was kneeling and Kalluto was embracing him, and the both of them—they were crying.

* * *

Machi found Chrollo sitting on the couch when she staggered down the stairs to leave. Her stomach still felt as if a typhoon were loose in it, tumbling the remains of whatever she'd tried to eat the night before. She'd actually been feeling well enough to go to Feitan's room, and then woke up with nausea still shackling her.

"You okay?" Machi asked.

Chrollo pulled his knee to his chest, resting his chin on it. He didn't answer.

"Well, have fun brooding," Machi said, heading for the door.

"Machi?" asked Chrollo.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Machi's jaw dropped. "Huh?"

"Don't laugh," Chrollo said. "And don't repeat this or I'll kick you out. Am I—"

"Sure," Machi said. "You are, but not nearly as much of one as, say, Hisoka. And you're the kind of idiot I trust."

Chrollo smiled, but his eyes seemed glazed over.

 _Someone's hungover,_ Machi thought. She left and walked the full two kilometers to the nearest pharmacy. She froze the second she entered and saw a familiar face. Melody.

The ugly woman turned to her and smiled. "Hi, Machi."

Machi arched her eyebrows when she noticed the box in Melody's hand. "Wild night?"

"It's not for me."

"You're one of the only people I'd actually believe that excuse from." Machi pushed past her and grabbed her own kit. She paused, shoulders shaking. She felt like she was going to throw up again. _Someone notice. Someone help me._

"Machi," Melody said quietly.

"Not a word," Machi said, turning to her and lasering the woman with her gaze. "Not a _word_."

"I wouldn't."

And she somehow believed her, anyways. Even though Melody had nothing to gain from keeping her secret. Or from telling. _You're one of the few good people in this world, aren't you?_

"Well," Machi said. "Good luck. To your... friend."

"Good luck to you, as well."

She bought the kit and walked back. Feitan texted. _Want me to pick u up some hot chocolate? Ill burn if try 2 make_

She bit back a smile. _Ok_

She got to her house and staggered into the bathroom, dripping in sweat from the long walk. She shut the door and took the damn test, and hopped in the shower to rinse off while she waited. She also needed something for her hands to do instead of waiting for a fucking line or two.

She didn't want to be tied down. That was why she ran away in the first place. No, she ran away because it was all a sham, nothing like a family. And she wanted one.

 _I can't leave! I don't want to leave!_

When she stepped out, wrapped in a thick towel, she checked.

Two stripes.

 _Fuck_.

 _I hurt him_. The last thing she wanted to do was be an inconvenience for anyone. She had always been self-sufficient. And she never wanted to hurt someone. A part of her always wanted to heal.

 _Others or yourself?_

It didn't matter. Either way, she was hurting, now. Hurting Feitan, someone she cared for, hurting Chrollo probably if she decided to keep it and moved out, hurting her own career, hurting. And yet she still...

 _I want..._

 _I'm such a fucking idiot._ Machi bit her lip so harsh blood leaked out. She couldn't stand this. She didn't want to be a burden, and she didn't want to want.

 _I can do this._

 _I can't._

She didn't realize tears were leaking down her face until she heard a knock on the door and Paku's voice. "Machi? Are you okay in there?"

"Fine," she called, getting to her feet. She grabbed the box and stuffed the stupid stick inside, hesitating as she held it over the trash can. She could wipe her eyes, and Paku wouldn't press.

 _Press. Press. Help me, fuck me, I hate me!_

"Machi?" asked Oito's voice. Machi bit her lip, and then decided she didn't care. Use it as a weapon. She had to. She flung the door open and held out the test without warning.

Paku's eyes bulged.

"Oh, Machi," said Oito, holding Woble. Her voice sounded almost motherly, like the tone she used with Woble when Woble fell, or dropped something.

 _Mistake_. A shield made of cardboard. She felt her eyes welling up. "Not a word," Machi managed.

"Obviously," said Paku.

"Do you want to talk about what you want to do?" ventured Oito.

"Rewind time and use a condom," Machi said. She dropped onto the side of the rtub, head in her hands. At least she was graduating this year, so if she decided to have it, she could.

But what kind of parent could she even be? She had no fucking clue what a mother was. Feitan didn't even know his own birthday. And a child was not a house.

 _I can't succeed._

 _No, fuck that. Fuck me!_

"When I found out I was having her," Oito said. "I was scared. If Nasubi had wanted me to terminate it, I would have—I wasn't thinking about what I wanted then, only what he wanted, because I wanted him to want me." She swallowed. "What do _you_ want to do?"

 _I can't make a decision. I'm not sufficient. I'm held together by thin threads that are about to break, and I'll fall into a rancid puddle of trash right on this very floor._

Oito held her hand.

* * *

"Don't pretend you don't care," said Killua. "I know you do."

Palm crossed her arms. They sat on a campus bench, Killua trying to persuade her to talk to that rude brother she had a class with.

"Don't you think I had it coming?" asked Palm. She'd finally escaped her apartment after Melody gave her the morning-after pill. She needed to clear her head. She needed to breathe, and yet when she breathed, she could still smell him.

Killua recoiled. "No. Of course not."

"He said I could talk to Professor Knov." And she froze. She couldn't push him off. When she ran out and into those grad students, she still wasn't sure whether she was dreaming or not.

"You deserve help," said Killua. "Gon was crying. He wants to help you too, but he can't, so he asked me to ask you to. None of us want to see you suffer more."

"Not true. You don't like me. You just want Gon not to suffer more and he likes me so he'd suffer if I suffer." Palm dug her nails into her forearm.

Killua threw his hands in the air. "I don't know how to convince you. For someone who wants people's love, you don't seem to believe people care about you."

Palm let out a harsh laugh. Maybe that's what love is. Forcing someone. Hurting someone.

 _I don't want that to be true._ She wanted a fairytale. She'd always wanted a fairytale, a magical kiss to wake her up from this nightmare she was living in, cursed with a brain broken, someone to sweep her into their arms and promise that no one would hurt her, not even herself. Instead she was lost in a forest of thorns, and no matter where she turned, some part of her snagged, tearing.

"I wanted to believe my parents cared," Killua said, voice cracking. "I sacrificed so many years thinking they did approve of me, but it was all just favoritism and they still hurt me. And all the while my sister suffered, and I thought I was enough. I was so fucking narcissistic. I was mean to you, Palm, when I first met you because you were me." His voice trembled. "I can be enough for her, but I shouldn't have to be, and I thought I was... I thought it was all on me." He doubled over. "You don't have to make people like you, Palm! Gon likes you. You're his friend. You're mine. We want to help you because we care. Not romantically, but we care."

She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth.

"I'm talking to a brother I fight with all the time for you." Killua shook his phone at her.

Palm scowled. "Don't hurt yourself for me."

"It's a hurt I'm willing to take."

 _Why?_

"Can I walk you to Milluki's? Then you can give him the time stamp. You can trust him not to do anything with it; he's a piece of shit but not that kind of shit."

"Is he you, too?" Palm asked, but she rose.

Killua swallowed. His eyes darted about.

"Killua!" came a shriek.

Palm's jaw dropped. A boy in a kimono raced up to Killua, sobbing. Killua took a step back, like he was afraid, but the boy dropped to his knees. "Please don't leave! Nii-san... _please don't hate me!"_

"I'll find Milluki," Palm said quietly. _This boy just wants you too, Killua. Like Alluka. And you don't hate him. You hate yourself for failing him even more so than you failed Alluka.  
_

She glanced over her shoulder as she walked across campus. Killua knelt across from his brother, and they were talking. Finally.

 _It's not too late._

Killua texted her Milluki's number, and she called. He let her in the dorm room but didn't seem to know what to say.

"If you think I deserve it, just say it," Palm said. Her sword. Cut first. Aim it at someone else, so it wouldn't be aimed at herself, and yet her scars showed where she usually aimed it.

 _I am unlovable. I deserve the worst._

"I don't," Milluki said. "I just need the time and I can hack into his computer."

"Everyone will say I asked for it," Palm said, entering Milluki's dorm room. It smelled like trash, and she spotted a doll on his bed. "Gross."

Milluki scowled. He left the door cracked.

 _Thanks_. "Plastic's better than a person, I guess," said Palm. "Can't hurt you."

"More like plastic can't reject me no matter what I weigh." He refused to meet her eyes. Milluki dropped down in front of the computer. "Are you going to the police?"

"Like I said. No point. They'll say I knew what I was doing or I'm crazy so no one will care."

"Dumb," commented Milluki. "I'm surprised Kil called me. And Illu-nii, too. They both usually have such sticks up their asses. Sorry." He shut up.

"Huh?" Palm asked. "Killua can be stuck up, I think."

Milluki smirked. "Usually everyone loves him." He didn't have to add, "and not me." "Illumi drives himself insane trying to control him as if he thinks being liked is contagious, but we were born too much like our mom. Like you. I mean, the driving insane to be loved part."

"And you've given up," Palm said. "You're even trying to get me to dislike you even though you're helping me." _Your doll is your scars._

 _I want to live. I want to have control over my life. I fucking hate this man for taking that from me!_

 _I'm scared. I'm so scared._ She shook from head to toe, her teeth chattering. _Someone see me! Someone... talk to me, someone help me, someone understand._

Killua had. Palm rested her chin on her knees. Tears ran sticky down her cheeks.

"I have tissues," said Milluki. "Nothing else, though, sorry."

"That's fine." She sniffled and reached for the tissue box.

"While I'm at it," offered Milluki. "I could, you know, mess with his finances or his grading system or something of the like. Maybe the latter so I won't go to jail. My parents wouldn't like that."

"I thought you said your parents didn't like you anyways."

"They don't, but they tolerate me." He pressed his lips together.

"I wish I could give up," Palm said, voice wobbling. "I wish I didn't have to care." _Then I never would have gone with Bizeff._

 _It's hopeless, isn't it? Knov will never care._

 _But Killua said he did. And Gon, too._

Milluki powered up his computer. He closed out of a video game. And another. And another.

"Lot of them," Palm commented.

He glared at her. "I can at least win at something then."

"Do you have any killing ones?" Palm asked. "Hurting a fictional character doesn't sound bad. Or else I'm going to hurt someone real." Bizeff, only in her dreams. Herself, really.

"When I'm done," said Milluki. "We could play one. If you wanted. They distract me, anyways, when my parents used to kick the shit out of me for taking the easy way out or ragging on Killua."

"Your parents suck."

" _I_ suck," said Milluki. 'But not at video games."

"We'll see."


	11. Chapter 10: Humility

_Take my picture and then you laugh_

 _But I hate the way I look in photographs_

 _Keep your memories, but don't live the past_

 _I'm looking forward to the best days we will have_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

Hisoka couldn't even finish the coffee Illumi brought him. His stomach stung and his head throbbed, feeling as if his skull was grinding down against his spine. He gripped the sheets as if he could strangle them.

His entire life he'd spent fighting to get what he wanted. He enjoyed the struggle more than anything. But this—this—he had no idea how to handle. Illumi didn't seem to care. But he had to. He did. That was part of what Hisoka enjoyed about Illumi—that there was so much under the surface of his skin.

 _I want you to care, goddammit!_

But why? It was all fake.

 _No, it wasn't._

Hisoka cussed and got to his feet. He marched up the stairs towards the attic. Chrollo sat between an antique desk and a silk windowseat, half-asleep. His eyebrows arched when he saw Hisoka.

"For the record," Hisoka said. "Tserriednich attempted to blackmail me with those photos of me kissing that girl. He wanted access to Oito."

Chrollo pushed himself to his feet. "And you didn't do it?"

"It was fake dating anyways."

"Doesn't always work out like you think, does it?" asked Chrollo, leaning back against the wall. "I tried the same thing last year."

"I know," Hisoka said. "You just picked the wrong person. I really never thought of you as anything but a friend with benefits, though."

"I know," Chrollo echoed. He looked out the window. "I'll watch my back. Thanks for warning me about Tserriednich."

He turned to leave.

"Hey Hisoka," called Chrollo.

"What?"

"You picked the wrong person, too."

 _In a different sense._ Hisoka jogged down the stairs and headed towards campus. He did not like Chrollo being right. Then again…

 _We're too alike_.

Hisoka cussed, picking up a pebble and hurling it at a nearby tree. It clacked against the bark and bounced off. The tree's branches didn't even shudder, but it left a scratch on the wood.

"Break up?" called a voice.

Hisoka turned around. The woman with two scars over her face stood at the entrance to campus, almost as if she was waiting like a creeper. "We weren't dating."

"Sure." She shrugged. "No difference to me."

"Why are you stalking me? Was it that good?" The joke tasted sour on Hisoka's lips. He scowled.

"No, on the contrary. I hate Tserriednich. And I thought you should know." She folded her arms. "He gave me access to Nasubi in exchange for kissing you. I'm going to bring down that prick professor. And Tserriednich won't stop."

"Get a new boyfriend."

"He's my brother."

"Jesus Christ."

"Illegitimate," she said, pointing at herself. "Morena Prudo. Nasubi scarred my face years ago."

"Your parents could give the Zoldycks a run for their money then," Hisoka said.

"And you?" she asked. "You don't have parents, do you? For all you know, maybe you've slept with a sibling, because you were surely a mistake so who's to say they don't have other mistakes?"

"You have a mind even more twisted than mine, and I'm not amused," Hisoka stated. "And mistakes are fun. They are—"

"Well good, because you make a lot of them." She smirked. "You're worthless."

"At least I'm fun." He pushed past her. She was getting old really fast and he didn't have time to waste on her.

"Are you?" she called after him. "Or are you just someone Illumi will surely forget about and move on from? You want people to move on, and yet you want to be everyone's god, because they can never predict you and you do what you want on whatever whim strikes your fancy. You want to surprise people because you're the one who gets to play with them, because you really _do_ think you matter, or you're desperate to at any rate. You think you're the only one that matters, you're the pinnacle, all because you know you're not and you're grasping onto any and every experience for your dick to make you feel like you aren't shit. You are just like Tserriednich, just like Chrollo, just like Illumi, even. None of you are as special as you think you are. You're just trash, like me."

Hisoka whirled around. His heart thudded in his chest. "Who the fuck _are_ you?"

Her eyes glittered. "I'm going to make Nasubi pay and his entire family with him. Tserriednich is smart but I'm smarter. Considering Tserriednich's current unrequited lust for Kurapika and Oito he's settled on Chrollo as a target. It didn't take me long to gather information on all of you in that house."

Hisoka ignored her. He marched off. The library, brick and covered in ivy, loomed ahead.

"Hisoka," came another voice. Hisoka groaned as he turned to the side. Gon Freecss sat on a bench, knees tucked into his chest.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Hisoka asked.

"We're just friends!" Gon scowled. "Visiting his brother. The one who isn't a control freak."

"And you went to see your dad, and he wouldn't see you," Hisoka stated.

Gon rested his chin on his knees. "He's busy."

"He doesn't care about you," said Hisoka. "He's too busy having fun." Which for Ging Freecss was probably writing papers about how great his discoveries were or grading papers. Dull but whatever got him off. Gathering experience for himself at the expense of his son. But that's what everyone did, right? Stole from others to provide for themselves. That was what living was.

Gon's eyes flashed. "Why are you so mean?"

"It's true," Hisoka said, trying to purge the poison from that woman out of his system. It wound through him, nauseating him. He felt tired.

"No one cares about you, either," Gon informed him.

Hisoka snorted. He did like this kid. He reminded Hisoka of a younger him, except Gon had a father figure to chase after. But no matter how he waved, no one would notice. "Bold of you when you don't know me."

 _I made sure everyone I chased would remember me, at least._

 _That's what I wanted. To be a memory. Unforgettable._

 _I wanted the unforgettable._

Gon dropped his legs, staring up at Hisoka. "Kalluto already texted Killua you and Illumi broke up. Illumi was crying."

"Illumi's cried over Killua too." Well, not literally. Internally. "He's lost a lot of sleep over it. So why aren't you yelling at your friend?"

"Because Illumi's not safe for him to be around?" Gon glared. "He's _afraid_ of him! And his parents are going to put them through a trial and Mito and I might not be able to have him stay with us anymore and then both him and Alluka will get hurt again!"

"Illumi loves his brother," Hisoka said.

"You can love someone and they can still be bad for you!"

" _Exactly_ ," said Hisoka, peering into Gon's eyes.

Gon paled. He glanced sideways, towards the building the housed Ging's office.

And Hisoka felt no better for it.

As Gon walked away, he couldn't shake the thought that he, Hisoka, was bad for Illumi, and he couldn't understand why that bothered him.

 _I want to experience you. And keep experiencing you. In other ways. In lots of ways, not just as a fuck buddy._

 _Fuck._

* * *

Illumi tried to study, but his brain kept misfiring. Fucking Hisoka. He'd really ruined everything.

"Illu-nii?" asked Kalluto. "If Killua came back, but we couldn't go home with Mom and Dad, would that be okay?"

Illumi clutched his pen so tightened it jabbed into his thumb. He dropped it, turning around. "I'd rather we were all together."

 _I want a family._

 _I want a full family. A whole one._

But they would never accept Alluka. And Killua would never accept life without her.

" _If you love your brother, Illumi, you'll protect him," Mom told him, clutching his chin so tightly it would leave bruises._

He used to tuck Killua in at night, and when Alluka started acting out, he—he—

 _I just wanted to keep you safe._

 _No._

"I want to be with him," Kalluto said sadly. "I used to have fun. With him and Alluka too."

 _I want—to be with him, too._

 _I don't want to be alone. I've always been alone._

A knock sounded on the door. Kalluto opened it to find Feitan and Chrollo there, Feitan looking grumpy. "You okay, kid?"

Kalluto nodded.

"If you want me to quiz you later, lemme know," Feitan said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He turned and headed down the stairs.

"Hey," said Chrollo.

"Are you going to kick me out?" Illumi asked, tilting his head up. "If so, I urge—"

"No," said Chrollo. "Not at all. I'm not—any better. I did the same thing with Kurapika." He stepped inside and closed the door. Kalluto looked up at him with the same kind of look Killua used to look at Illumi with. Light, and hope.

 _When did that start to fade?_

Illumi couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen on his brother's face. _What if the trial works, and we get Killua back? If he hates us? Can we convince him not to?_

He didn't know anymore. He was weak, he was pathetic, he couldn't even obey his own instructions not to care about his fake boyfriend. He was really bad at faking things. And he was bad at being wanted. Maybe because he was worthless. Maybe because it was inherent, because there was no hope.

 _I can't convince him._

 _I could only ever convince him to hate me._

"What about Hisoka?" he managed.

"He's fine too. We deal with each others' antics. We're similar in many ways and different in others." Chrollo shrugged. "You and him, and you and me, as well."

Illumi scowled. He did not like the comparison. But—

 _You don't want to be alone, either._

Kalluto's words about his place, these people, echoed. _You have a family._

 _Me?_

 _Am I a part of that?_

 _And you and Hisoka still hurt each other, but you—_

Illumi folded his hands together, hunching his shoulders. "Doesn't it bother you, that Hisoka and I were trying to—"

"Yes, but I didn't act better," Chrollo said. A strange look filtered through his face. Illumi tilted his head, studying Chrollo. _Killua—_

Chrollo left, and Illumi turned to Kalluto. "I hurt you growing up, didn't I?"

"You only did it to keep Mom and Dad from—it helped us learn, but nicer—" Kalluto started.

 _That's a yes._ Illumi's stomach churned. He doubled over, clenching his fists. His knuckles popped.

"Not that they weren't nice," Kalluto added quickly, as if he was afraid.

 _You really like it here._

 _If I stay, I'll lose Killua forever, won't I?_

 _If I fight for our parents, I've already lost him._

 _No, I've already lost him anyways._ Illumi felt like screaming. He doubled over.

 _I want him back!_ He wanted to rewind time. He wanted—he wanted— _why?_

He could almost feel his throat burning again.

No one was coming when his mom held him down and Dad dumped the coffee. It was up to his dad, and it was too late. Nothing he would say or do could have stopped it.

 _I've been trying to make you stop. This entire time._

 _Can it stop?_

Killua knew. Not in that house. Kalluto… he was starting to think so, but _here_. Illumi gulped. What could he do? What should he do?

If Grandpa had stepped in, stopped—Illumi would have feared it was because they thought him weak. He looked at Kalluto, and he didn't see someone who was weak. He remembered Kalluto hugging him when—

 _Hisoka, you're right._

 _I do care._

 _I am a liar when I say I don't._

 _I don't know how to not care, and I don't know how to tell the truth that I do._

Illumi swallowed. He pulled out his phone. He remembered hearing Kalluto laughing with Machi and Feitan. Laughing.

 _I like your laugh._

 _I've never heard Alluka's, not since she was a baby._

A strange sensation of loss settled over him, like something had been stolen from him. He dialed Chrollo. "Can you put me in touch with Mizaistom?"

Even if the man was no match for his parents' attorney, he could try to help.

* * *

"I win," Palm said.

"No, you don't." Milluki somehow swerved his character.

"Hey!" Palm scowled. At the very least this game was a solid distraction for her. She didn't want to be thinking of anything else, to drown in her disjointed memories, many of which were blurred.

"Btw," said Milluki. "I found it."

Palm dropped the controller. "You what?"

"All the videos," said Milluki. "I didn't watch them. I promise you. But he has several."

Palm's heart pounded. She clutched the hem of her dress. "And when were you going to tell me this?"

"I just did." Milluki cleared his throat. "I want to hand them over to the police. Anonymously."

Palm glared at him. "No!"

"No?' He blinked up at her.

"I don't want anyone to see that! And I don't want anyone to question me about it." She rocked back and forth, digging her nails in. "I've seen documentaries. I know what they put you through."

"But he's an asshole."

"Can you imagine what it would be like to be trapped by law in a fucking room where all these men in suits, men with so much power than you'll never come close to having, rip you and everything you've ever loved apart and tell the court again and again how worthless you are and how much you deserved it and how it's all your fault and only focus on your bad points?" Which, if you were Palm, were a lot. _Why does no one love me? I'm strong. I'm smart. I'm pretty._

 _And this is the closest I can get to love._ Pain, barely coherent, lost. Blood running down her arms.

"Not like that," Milluki said quietly. "But I can understand, a little."

She snorted. "Oh, yeah?"

"Dad used to starve me when I was gaining weight. He used to wrap tape measures around me and keep track and the stress only made me want to eat more. He used to compare my test scores to Killua's, even though they were tests I did years before Killua, and he'd slap me across the face and call my mom and my grandfather in to tell me what a disgrace I was. Illumi, too, sometimes." Milluki crossed his arms and huffed. "Grandfather at least said I was smart. Sometimes. But I'd never be Killua, so."

Palm gaped at him. "Your parents are shitheads."

Milluki huffed. "And I still wish I was like them. I'd give anything to be like my dad."

"Even if that would make you a shitty person?"

Milluki scowled.

 _Yes, you would._ Because he wanted to be loved. Pain, barely coherent, lost.

 _I'll do whatever you want me to._ She'd thought that of Professor Knov, but she didn't know what that was, so she strove and strove and all it got her was this.

"I wouldn't do it if I were you," Milluki said sadly. "But I'm letting you know. I can, if you want. Or I can just delete them."

Palm squeezed her eyes shut.

"Oh," said Milluki. "I also noticed he has a lot of email exchanges with Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou. And a lot of them concern girls."

"He talked to me at the party," said Palm. "And gave me a drink, but I didn't really finish it. I can't remember what he said." She hit herself in the temple. _Stupid!_

"Stop it!" Milluki grabbed her wrist.

Her eyes slid around the room, taking in the candy wrappers, the dirty laundry, the stupid doll's arm dangling out from under the bed.

 _Hurting ourselves doesn't make us tougher, does it? Not in the end._ She wiped at her eyes.

He handed her a tissue.

* * *

 _Should we meet one more time to go over our presentation?_

Chrollo exhaled when the text came through. So Kurapika didn't hate him for last night. Though he supposed they would still have to talk about it.

 _Do you want to come over?_ he responded. He'd like to show Kurapika the house. Or, really, the library. He somehow suspected the boy would love it, even if a lot of the shelves were empty. They wouldn't stay that way though. He had plans to fill them. But not all of them. He wanted to leave some room for more books, the ones he hadn't discovered yet.

 _Sure_.

"Can't believe he doing it," commented Feitan when Chrollo jogged down to the kitchen to make tea. Evening light filtered through the kitchen, indigo and maroon pooling onto the hardwood floor.

Kalluto sat at the kitchen table, sipping hot chocolate. "It's not as good as Machi's."

"Shut up, brat." Feitan jabbed his finger at him. "It's the instant stuff. I don't make that homemade shit. I burn it."

Kalluto smirked.

"Who is doing what and where is Machi?" Chrollo asked. He chose a ginger lemon tea.

"Illumi called Mizaistom," reported Kalluto. "He wants to tell them about—" He cut himself off, gulping the hot chocolate.

 _Abuse_. Chrollo didn't know what to think. He thought of himself and Hisoka, with no parents at all. Feitan didn't even know his birthday. And then Kurapika, with parents he'd lost. And then he thought of Illumi and Kalluto, and he wondered. Would it be better to have never had parents than have parents who hurt you, and liked hurting you? Would he have been more or less lonely, if that had been him?

Upstairs, he heard Woble crying.

"Machi not feeling well," reported Feitan. "I bring her hot chocolate, but it burned."

Chrollo lifted his brows. _You made her hot chocolate? She let you?_

The doorbell rang. He turned and headed over, opening the door to find Kurapika standing there. "Hey."

"Hey." Chrollo shut the door behind him and headed to the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Sure." Kurapika took in Kalluto and Feitan. Feitan's eyes narrowed.

"Good, because I already made you a cup," Chrollo said, handing it to him. He led Kurapika to the library.

"I don't think the short guy likes me," Kurapika said. "But that other kid—he's Killua's brother, right?"

Chrollo nodded, hands wrapped around the warm mug. "Feitan's just always going to be grumpy when he knows we've had drama."

"Like a brother?" Kurapika asked.

"I suppose." Chrollo frowned.

"Cute mug," Kurapika remarked, studying the flowers painted on it. "My favorite mug is chipped."

Chrollo snorted.

"My parents gave it to me."

"I figured." Chrollo entered the library. An overstuffed leather sofa sat back against two long windows covered by heavy red velvet drapes. They'd come with the house and Chrollo hadn't seen the need to replace them. A desk was wedged between two bookshelves, and an armchair and ottoman in teal lurked in a corner.

"Wow," Kurapika said. "This room is kind of a dream."

"When I lived in Meteor City, I once snuck into a library. It burned down shortly thereafter, but it was safe, for the time being." Chrollo smirked as he sat on the couch. "I ran off with as many books as I could carry. I stuffed them down my shirt."

Kurapika laughed. "My parents were pretty overprotective." He bit his lip, as if even a mild critique upset him now. "There were lots of things we weren't allowed to read. But Pairo and I would sneak them. He might as well be my brother; he spent so much time with me growing up. We'd read them under the covers with a flashlight."

"How strange," Chrollo commented, sipping his tea. The ginger warmed his tongue. "I never figured you for a rulebreaker."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "What did you figure? That I obeyed everything?"

"Yes?" Chrollo frowned. "Or maybe not. You are too angry to obey everything."

Kurapika glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to get me to prove your point?"

"Perhaps." Chrollo leaned back. "Why do you put such limits on yourself? Is it really just to be loved? Like when you wanted to be a doctor."

"Pairo saved my life," Kurapika said. "I told you. And—I wanted to cure him. His eyes—are because of me." He studied his mug, swallowing. "Even if he does love me, and wants me to be happy, I—"

"So you don't really think the world is just," Chrollo observed.

"Huh?"

Chrollo held up his hands. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"Why?"

"You're interesting, to me."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "I want it to be as—the best it can be. And I want—to be better than I am." He traced the rim of the mug. "I don't know if that's possible."

"How about for me?" Chrollo asked. "Do you think it's possible?"

"No. Satan's waiting for you with a horde of demons." Kurapika smirked.

Chrollo's jaw dropped. Kurapika laughed, finishing his tea and setting it down on the floor.

"If you don't think the world will be just," Chrollo said, leaning forward. "Then why do you act like it is?" _Why do you care? How do you care?_

 _I want to care._

 _I don't want to be let down._

"Do you know what I think?" Kurapika asked. "I think you're the same. Otherwise you wouldn't have tried to get back at Hisoka. You do care. You're just—if you have choices, then—"

"We're both fucked, then," Chrollo supplied.

 _Then why did I grow up like that?_

 _Why?_

 _It hurt me._

 _I was lonely. I was cold. I was scared. I was trash. People kicked me, and I bled. I was—why—_

 _I don't want to feel this!_

Kurapika watched him. "I want to—even if I can't change anything—I want to try because—I want to be a part of this world." He leaned over, his hands covering his face and muffling his voice. "God, that sounds pretentious."

"Maybe," Chrollo said. "But I want—I want—"

 _If this isn't fate, I want it to be._

 _If this is, I want to fight it, with you._

 _I'm tired. I'm so tired. I don't want to be a puppet. I don't want to be like Illumi, a puppet, or like Hisoka, with no inhibitions whatsoever, and I am like both of them._

"It's funny," said Kurapika. "Seeing you—seeing us get along—seeing Pouf and Komugi start to get along, her dating Meruem—I think—I've never been as good of a person as I thought I was. I think you were a scapegoat, for myself."

 _And I liked you, because—just like the others here—you were me._

 _But you're different, too. You're Kurapika, and I can't—seeing you live—_

"You are a part of the world," Chrollo said. "You don't have to earn it. You're a part of mine. Even if you decide you don't want to—"

 _I just wanted to belong._

 _I just wanted a family._

 _I just wanted to be safe, and to have fun._

 _I wanted choices, and reassurance it would all be okay. I wanted to control, and I wanted to be controlled. I wanted to live, and I wanted to die because I thought that was what I was born to do. I wanted value and I wanted trash, I wanted to help and I wanted to steal, I wanted to know and to learn, I wanted to look down on you all, and I wanted to be loved, I wanted, I wanted, I wanted._

 _I'm so greedy._

 _I am a mess._

Kurapika's hands gripped his chin, lifting Chrollo's face up. _You know._

His lips found Chrollo's, and Chrollo pressed his face up. Kurapika's breath felt warm. His hands cupped Kurapika's chin. _You really do want to kiss me?_

"You don't have to prove anything," Chrollo managed.

"I want to, dumbass." Kurapika pulled back, face flushed, He tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear.

 _It's beautiful._ Chrollo reached out, untucking the hair, running the silken strands through his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Kurapika asked, voice unsteady.

Chrollo bit his lip. Kurapika would probably think it cheesy. "Thinking that you're beautiful."

Kurapika snorted. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are." But he saw it too, the sludge behind Kurapika's eyes, that shame. And he didn't want it to be there, but it was, because he was human, too.

Kurapika pushed Chrollo's hair back. His lips found the cross tattoo, the one he always called stupid. And then he pushed forward, and Chrollo was pressed up against the back of the couch, Kurapika's arms wrapped around him, his mouth pressing deeper and deeper. Chrollo copied his movements, sliding his hands up and down Kurapika's chest, settling on his hips. He tightened his grip.

"Sorry," Kurapika managed, pulling back. "I—lost control."

Chrollo was panting. "Well, don't stop." _I want to see. I want to see you, and I want to lose control, too._

Kurapika swallowed. "I—I've never—"

 _Oh, right._ Chrollo sat up. "I could show you. If you want to."

Kurapika held his gaze. "Okay." A simple expression of trust.

"My room," Chrollo said.

Kurapika rolled his eyes, but he smiled. They slipped into his room. Hisoka and Illumi both weren't in their rooms. Good. Chrollo texted Feitan. _Keep dumb & dumber downstairs for the next hour?_

He reached into his dresser for condoms and turned to find Kurapika inspecting his room. The ceilings were gabled, with only one small window. Candles lined the bookshelves, and books, of course. Shoes were piled in one corner. "It's a mess."

"That's okay. I'd have thought you'd like order." Kurapika smiled.

"Organized chaos," Chrollo explained.

"Fits." Kurapika swallowed.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," Kurapika answered honestly.

Chrollo swallowed. "We don't have to." _I'm nervous too._

"I want to." Kurapika reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, watching Chrollo's face as his chest came into view. _Fuck_.

Chrollo reached for Kurapika, kissing him slowly. He lifted Kurapika's shirt over his head. Kurapika shoved his coat off and pulled his shirt, next. Chrollo's lips moved down his chest, and Kurapika pressed his own against Chrollo's neck. Chrollo bit back a gasp. _Christ_. Kurapika was—good.

"You know," Kurapika managed. "You're the first kiss I ever had, too."

 _I'm sorry I didn't honor that_. Chrollo held him. Kurapika's hands drifted to Chrollo's pants. He removed them first, and then Kurapika's, and then underwear too, and then Kurapika was lying on his back, and Chrollo covered his mouth with his. He heard Kurapika gasp as he used lubricant. "Sorry, it's cold."

"No, it's okay." Kurapika went back to Chrollo's neck. Well, he was going to be wearing scarves the next few days.

And then the idea of days fell away, and there was only today, this hour, this moment, himself inside Kurapika, and Kurapika holding him, both of them fighting to breathe. Kurapika's eyes were closed, and Chrollo kissed his lids.

When Kurapika opened them, they were scarlet.

He wasn't beautiful. He was—something else entirely. Chrollo kept moving. Kurapika's hand brushed his chin. Kurapika let out a gasp. His eyes burned even brighter. He shook. And then something inside Chrollo burst. He was a trembling mess, clutching Kurapika, and Kurapika arched up to kiss him again, and Chrollo could hear undignified sounds breaking through his own mouth, and he was the one who lost control, and Kurapika was still holding him.


	12. Chapter 11: Patience

_You can cry away all your complicated memories_

 _That keep you up so many nights_

 _But darling, save your apologies_

 _'Cause I know that you're scared_

 _But I swear you'll be alright_

 _I swear you're alright_

 _You're alright_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

Illumi lay there in bed, wishing he could cry. Nighttime slipped by. Hisoka came home around one in the morning, judging from the sound of his steps outside.

Illumi wished he could sleep. But he couldn't do that, either.

Just lie there, empty.

His parents would hate him now.

Did they already hate him? Had they hated him since he was born? Since he wasn't good enough? When had he shown them that he wasn't good enough? What had he done? Was it the coffee?

 _I want to go back and change it._

 _I can't earn it back, can I? You'll never forgive me for—for—I don't even know what for. Can't you tell me what I did wrong?_

Kalluto snored lightly. Illumi almost smiled.

He wished he could talk to Hisoka. _Why wasn't I enough for you?_

The scary thing was, when Hisoka's words echoed in his memories, begging him to be angry with him, he almost wondered if he _was_.

He drifted off when salmon scales started to glow against a dark sky. His sleep was fitful and gray. He hear rustling, but he couldn't bring himself to move. All of his limbs felt heavy, weighted. He couldn't move.

"Illumi."

Someone was calling his name. The name his parents had given him. He wondered why his mother had chosen it, if she'd put much thought into it, because to her their names didn't matter besides the last name.

He drifted again, and saw Hisoka laughing at him, over him, tossing a card in the air.

 _Catch me._

 _Someone. Please._

 _Hold me. Don't let me go._

His head throbbed.

"Illumi, _wake up."_

His eyelids didn't want to move. He stirred.

" _Nii-san_."

His eyes cracked open. His headache blurred his vision. And then he took in the figure standing in front of him, slowly coming into focus. White hair. Blue eyes.

 _Huh?_ Illumi jerked up. He gaped. "Kil?" _Why would you be here? Am I still asleep? What the—what?_ He didn't understand. He couldn't. He'd just—

Killua stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Kalluto and I talked. And he said you'd broken up with your boyfriend."

 _Huh?_ "Fake boyfriend," Illumi said quickly.

Killua's brow wrinkled.

"I mean," said Illumi. "I—" He stopped. _Was it fake? Was it?_

 _Was any of this real? Our family? We loved—they said—was any of it real?_

 _I know. I know I loved you, Killua. You're my little brother._

 _I just sucked at showing it._

"He also said you were gonna testify against Mom and Dad," Killua added.

Illumi swallowed. He nodded. "I didn't—think you would want to talk to me, but—" _If you would, I'd testify a million times against them._

 _I just want someone to love me. I want to matter, to anyone._

 _Do I even deserve to ask that of you? I have no idea how to love someone. I know I tried, but I did it badly, with you_. He wiped at his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Now Killua looked shocked.

"I'm sorry I—was a terrible older brother. I know I hurt you. And to Alluka—I don't even know her, they—I—" He squeezed his fists together. "I don't know, I don't, what I did or what they did, but I—" He swallowed, hunching his shoulders. "I am even terrible at apologizing. I don't know how."

 _What do you want from me?_

Hisoka's voice echoed. _If Killua wanted you, he'd come to you._

But he was here now. Illumi sat up straighter. "I am sorry. Is the Freecss home like this one? Do you feel happy there?"

Killua took a step back. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"

"Pardon?" Illumi frowned. He tapped his chin.

"Nope, that's definitely you." Killua sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I always hated what they made us do."

Illumi nodded.

"I still thought Dad—I thought he was the best one. He gave me a little room to breathe, but he—he was talking about sending Alluka away and I—" Killua clenched his fists. "He wouldn't even let me see her. He wasn't the best one. He—"

"I know," Illumi whispered.

"Well, I'm here to say it wasn't all on you like I—might have thought it was for a long time." Killua met his eyes.

Illumi blinked. _You—me?_

 _And you're apologizing to me?_

He was so much better than Illumi ever would be. In every way. Illumi wasn't ever able to lead or guide him. _I'm worthless._

 _I've always been worthless._

A sob broke through his lips.

"Are you crying?" Killua asked, surprised.

He didn't know what to say or do. Was this manipulating? What was real? What was evil? What was him? Were they exclusive or conflated more often than not? Would anything ever be simple again? _Help me; somebody help me!_

 _You_ did _. You're here, and you ran away to... save yourself, and Alluka, and you're saving us all. You helped me_. "What made you decide to run away?"

Killua studied him, his eyes filled with worry. "Gon offered when we were at camp—when I went back and found out about Alluka, I took the chance." Killua rested his chin on his knee. "It was different, being in a family where they cared about each other."

Not that Gon's father did. But maybe—maybe they didn't need him to have a family. Gon, his cousin/mother, and now Killua and Alluka.

"Is Alluka here?" Illumi whispered.

Killua hesitated. He nodded.

"I—" Illumi studied his hands. "I want to apologize to _her_."

"It's been good for her," Killua said. "Meeting more people, finding out that more people can love her. She has friends, now. Before it was just me, and she said that was fine, but—"

"That doesn't make you feel scared at all?" Illumi interrupted. "I mean, that she might love you less, since—" He cut himself off. _Idiot_.

Killua studied him. "No. I just—I wanted to protect her. And that's dangerous, letting her go to school, her own classes—she does quite well, you know, and we don't need homeschool when—"

"Wow," Illumi said.

 _Killua, I wanted—I want still—to protect you._

 _But letting you go—you're blossoming. You're better for it._

"Can I ask what a fake boyfriend is?" Killua said. He held up his phone. "I just texted Alluka."

 _Even though I'm bad at apologizing?_ "No." Illumi's cheeks colored. Killua blanched. "If Kalluto wants to stay with you—if Mito Freecss is willing—that's acceptable too. I'll tell him that."

"Isn't he staying with you?"

"Yes, but—whatever he wants," said Illumi. Shame crippled his voice. He couldn't continue.

The door opened, and Kalluto entered, following by—Alluka. Still with her hair long, just like Illumi's, and with his eyes and Killua's blue hue. She looked at him, scared.

"Alluka," Illumi managed. "I'm sorry. For what they did to you, what I allowed, what I did—I'm going to make sure our parents can't hurt you anymore."

 _I may be worthless, but I can at least try that. Please let me try to protect you this once.  
_

Alluka blinked. "Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You've been crying."

"Because I hurt you," Illumi said. "And it was wrong." _I made you feel like_ this _, didn't I? Worthless_.

 _You aren't._

"You matter," Illumi choked out. "I'll make sure you know it now, Alluka. You matter, and I was so wrong not to treat you like that. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I will say how sorry I am." _I wish I could love you. I want to know you._

 _Why did they steal that from us?_ A flicker of something he hadn't acknowledged in years burned. Anger. He'd thought it all burned to ash long ago, but here, it ignited. _Why did I let them?_

"Nii-san," said Alluka. "You _like_ me?"

"I want to," Illumi answered. He didn't understand. And then, he did. _You just wanted to be liked_. "Yes," he said. "Alluka, I like you. I like you far better than I like me."

Killua was crying. Illumi didn't undestand. "Kil?"

Killua grabbed Illumi in a hug. His chest heaved, and Illumi understood, just like he did when KAlluto hugged him. _You wanted this._ And now, Alluka's arms wrapping around them both, he knew.

 _I wanted this, too._

* * *

When Kurapika woke up, soft sunlight filtered through the crimson curtains. He sat up slowly, taking in the room. Chrollo's. The man was asleep next to him. A spider tattoo rested over his heart, but the spider had twelve legs. Incorrect.

"Morning," mumbled Chrollo without opening his eyes.

"Your tattoo is wrong," Kurapika informed him.

Chrollo scowled. "It is not. There's one leg for each other person in this house."

"You're much more sentimental than I thought, then," Kurapika responded. Chrollo's eyes widened in surprise. Kurapika liked it, that look, the surprise. Not everything was fate. He leaned down, brushing his lips against Chrollo's.

It was nice to feel wanted. And yet he was afraid, too, remembering just how upset he'd been with Chrollo, how he projected onto him. _It was you, but it was also me. I didn't want to be a fool. I didn't want to be alone. I wanted a distraction, I wanted to use someone, and you were there._

Perhaps he had been far less malicious, but it wasn't untrue. Kurapika eased himself up.

"Bonolenov did the tattoo," Chrollo said. "He has a bit of a talent. Not licensed, of course, but—"

Kurapika rolled his eyes. He fumbled for his clothing, stepping into his jeans.

"We never did talk about _Fathers and Sons,"_ Chrollo said, clutching the pillow Kurapika had just vacated to his chest.

"We can meet up again," Kurapika said. "If you'd—want to. I mean, we have to for our—"

Chrollo sat up, hair tousled. "I'd like to."

Kurapika heaved a sigh of relief. _Even after how angry I was, you still think there's good in me. Enough to pursue me, for me._

 _I want to believe that about me, too._

 _It's so hard._

"You can make tea downstairs," Chrollo suggested. "I have to do my hair."

"Oh, so it's not natural?" Kurapika opened the door and halted. His stomach clenched. "We're fucked."

"Huh?" Chrollo peered around him.

Hisoka had just emerged from the bathroom in a towel, hair plastered against his forehead. He froze, one hand holding the towel secure and one hand on his shoulder. "Well, well. I mean, I presume that was what you were doing."

"Huh?"

"Fucking each other."

Kurapika's face burned. "Bastard."

"Hope you had fun." Hisoka ducked into his room.

"Pay him no mind," Chrollo advised.

"Aren't he and Illumi—"

"They broke up." Chrollo frowned. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kurapika?"

He turned.

"It wasn't just what Hisoka said. I had sex with you because I... I like spending time with you." He hugged the pillow against his chest, studying his bare feet on the wooden floor. He lifted his head. "Christ. I really like you."

His heart pounded. _Are you saying what I think you're saying?_ He had no idea how this worked, this dating thing, this sex thing, any of it. He sucked at conversations, but he knew, he knew. There was a fissure inside him, and Chrollo had broken it open, and he couldn't stop it and he didn't want to. It wasn't drowning him. It could, but it was moving him, lifting him up. "I wouldn't have lost my virginity to someone I just wanted to have one night with," Kurapika admitted. He clenched his hands together. Why was communication so damn _hard?_

Chrollo's lips curved, and his eyes glowed. Fuck, he looked so pretty like that. Surprised. _Happy_. "So let's give it a try, shall we?"

"Yeah," Kurapika said. "Let's give it a try." His throat tightened. He was scared. But, he wanted to.

Kurapika glanced at Illumi's closed door as he headed down the stairs. A heavy feeling settled in his chest. He made it to the kitchen, where he found Machi sitting at the table with a glass of milk and looking green, while Oito handed her saltine crackers. Woble whimpered.

"Kurapika?" exclaimed Oito. "I didn't know you'd come over!" She gave him a quick hug. "How are you doing?"

"I didn't hear the front door," Machi said icily. She rose.

Oh, hell. A pink hurricane was about to descend. Kurapika turned to Woble. "She looks bigger!"

Distractions weren't going to work. "If you hurt Chrollo I swear to God I will pluck out your—"

"What?" demanded Oito.

"He slept over; look at his neck!" Machi shrieked.

 _My neck?_ Kurapika reached up and slapped his palm over it. His face boiled. He hunched his shoulders.

Oito lifted her eyebrows. A soft smile played with her lips.

"Are you just fucking with him?" Machi asked.

"Machi, there's a baby here," Kurapika pointed out. Woble reached for him and he took her, bouncing her. She let out a coo, clapping her hands together. _You matter. You matter most._

 _You are so loved, little baby._

Machi cringed. "Don't play with him. I mean it. I—"

 _You don't want someone you care about to get hurt._

 _You want to protect them._

"I have no intention of hurting him," Kurapika whispered. "It wasn't just a casual thing."

"Huh?" Machi gripped the counter.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Machi groaned. Kurapika set water on to boil, still holding Woble.

Hisoka appeared, hair gelled and styled. He opened the fridge.

"Your boyfriend left with his brother," Oito said.

"Huh?" Hisoka spun around, golden eyes darting form Oito to Kurapika to Machi. The fridge swung shut, his hands still empty.

"Killua," said Machi. "He came over and he left with Illumi, Kalluto, and Alluka. I think they were going to see Milluki. Illumi looked like he had been crying. Guess he's taking that break up pretty—"

"It wasn't a break up!" Hisoka snapped. His jaw twitched.

"Shut up and be honest with yourself for once," Machi retorted. "Look, idiot clown. You're stupid, but I _know_ you."

"In the Biblical sense: once, yes."

"Don't make me puke; I don't need any help with that!" Machi jabbed her finger at him. Kurapika exchanged a glance with Oito. "Illumi apologized to Alluka and Killua—"

"He what?" Hisoka's mouth actually hung open.

"Yeah," Machi said. "He—"

"I heard it," reported Nobunaga, appearing with Phinks behind him. Phinks swung his bookbag down and sauntered over to Kurapika, gesturing for Woble. Kurapika turned away. But Woble whimpered, reaching for Phinks.

 _Traitor_. Kurapika smirked as he handed her over. Oito's eyes looked solemn.

"He sounded sincerely sorry," Nobunaga said. "And Alluka said it was okay. She's like, one strong kid. Like, she could have survived in Meteor City strong."

"All of them are," Oito said quietly. "From what I know."

"Eh, Illumi—"

"Shut up," Hisoka told Nobunaga. "You don't know him."

"I wasn't going to say anything bad!"

"What happening?" asked Feitan as he came into the kitchen. He frowned at Machi, who was now looking pale and sweaty.

"Party in the kitchen?" Chrollo appeared, strolling over to Kurapika. He put an arm around him.

 _Is your confidence just a mask?_ Kurapika leaned his head back. This was new for him, public affection.

"You tell me," Hisoka said. "I wake up to find out Chrollo and Kurapika are fucking, Illumi apologized and to of all people someone he actually hurt in his sister, and I'm pretty sure I might as well dye my hair teal and wear a polo shirt because everything is opposite today."

Machi turned and raced towards the sink. She hurled.

"Shit!" Kurapika jumped. Feitan rushed over to her. Oito held her pink hair back.

"Machi, should you see a doctor or something?" asked Nobunaga. "I mean, you've been sick an awful lot lately."

"She has?" asked Hisoka. His eyes narrowed.

Kurapika let out a gasp. He clamped his hand over his mouth as Machi lifted her head and shot daggers at both him and Hisoka.

"Oh Christ," blurted out Hisoka.

"Don't—" started Oito.

" _Holy shit!"_ shrieked Nobunaga.

* * *

 _I fucking hate living with a bunch of men; they're all morons_.

Machi clutched the kitchen counter, still double over and her throat clamping as if it couldn't decide if it wanted to continue to retch or to cease for a few hours so she could actually eat something other than those bland crackers.

Woble whimpered. Oito reached for her daughter, glancing at Machi with her brows pinched together.

"What?" asked Feitan. "What you—"

"Machi's—" Nobunaga gestured.

"Don't jump to conclusions," Chrollo reprimanded him. "She—"

"Wait, what?" asked Phinks. "I'm confused."

Hisoka snorted. "Feitan, you're a fucking biology—"

"Biological engineering—"

Machi held up her middle finger at all of them. "Not you, Oito."

"I wasn't worried." Oito gave a wry smile.

"Chrollo, I hate your new boyfriend," Machi said. "If he hadn't—"

"How is this my fault?" Kurapika exclaimed.

"Would someone tell me what is going on?" Phinks looked like a kicked puppy dog. His lips trembled.

"It doesn't matter!" Machi yelled. "It's my body and my business and—"

Chrollo's mug of tea tilted in his hands, spilling onto his foot. He yelped. But his eyes found hers. _For real?_

 _Are you all that surprised dicks have consequences_? Machi put her hands on her hips and let out a huff. "You're all—"

"Machi," said Feitan. "What—"

"I'm pregnant," she said to him. The words came out clipped.

Feitan's face drained of color. His eyes grew cold, the concern freezing over, cracking. His cheeks hardened. He yanked his scarf up to his nose and turned, storming out of the kitchen.

"Why's he mad?" asked Nobunaga, scratching his head.

"Because it's his," said Machi, drumming her fingers on the counter.

"The fuck?" screamed Nobunaga. Hisoka let out a strange laugh. Kurapika and Chrollo exchanged a look. Phinks crossed his arms. Oito took a step back.

"What?" Machi demanded.

"So is this the first time he found out?" Phinks demanded. "He's my friend, and you're—"

"Have you ever called him that before?" Machi shot back.

"So he deserves—"

 _You think I don't know that?_ Machi glared at him.

"It's scary," Oito interjected. "I would know."

Machi's first instinct was to retort that she wasn't scared, not her. But Oito had been way too kind for her to be so rude. And, she _was_ scared.

"You know," said Hisoka. "From an ex—"

"You don't count as an ex, you were a pity fuck—"

"Well, I can still say that _if_ you have something to say to him, maybe just do it," said Hisoka. "Don't blue ball yourself."

"Ew," said Kurapika.

"Same back at you, clown," Machi snapped.

"I know." Hisoka scowled. "I'm still very disappointed in myself for not realize you two were fucking. Like, is his size—"

"He's better than you," Machi said. "Best sex I've ever had. He knows how to satisfy a girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?" cried out Hisoka.

Chrollo clutched his scalp, shock still permeating his features. Kurapika elbowed him.

"I heard all that!" hollered Shizuku from upstairs. "Congratulations!"

 _Congratulations_. Machi swallowed. Her eyes stung.

"Shizuku—" started Nobunaga.

Machi pushed past them all, heading to Feitan's room. The door was locked. She kicked it open.

"The hell?" demanded Feitan from where he was sitting on his bed, knees against his chest. "What you want?"

Machi slammed the door and marched over to him. "I'm pregnant. Six or seven weeks. It's yours."

"I know it mine," Feitan said. He tugged the scarf up higher.

 _Don't do that. Stop it. Just stop it_! "I want to keep it."

His eyes widened.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"It your decision. Your body."

 _Oh, for fuck's sake._ Machi stomped her foot. "I'm asking you for your opinion! Because I want to hear it! I want to know if you'd be in or out, regardless of—"

"Do you want me in?" Feitan asked. "You tell Oito, but not me. I—"

Machi swallowed. She clenched her fists. "I didn't know how serious we were. I didn't—" _Ask_. "I might have to move out, you know. Because—"

"Why?" asked Feitan. "We already have Oito and Woble here, another baby—"

"Well—"

"Would you want to stay?" he asked. "I want to. This place—is a family, and I don't know—you—"

"I thought it was a house," Machi corrected.

Feitan glowered. The scarf slipped lower. "With you in it."

Machi didn't know what to say. She dropped down next to him, folding her arms around her midsection. She hunched over, waiting.

"I like you," whispered Feitan. "I like you a lot. I don't want—you to go away. If you want baby, I can—but I don't know how to be—a family. Besides ask you to stay. I never had, so—"

"I never had one, either," Machi said. "But I dreamed about one." The room was so dark, shades still drawn against the sun. No shadows even crept across the floor.

"I never did. People were pain. I had to run from them or be in pain, or hurt them to not be in pain. Here, we all did our own thing, but—" Feitan played with the edges of his scarf. "But you—I like. I like this place. I like people in it."

"If I keep it," said Machi. "I'm afraid I'll be a terrible mother."

Feitan turned to her, jaw open. "You never be a terrible _anything_."

Machi rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter me."

"I mean it." Feitan exhaled. "I don't know how to be a dad."

"Phinks wants to be Woble's dad; maybe you can figure it out together."

Feitan's lips pressed together. "He what?"

"He has a massive crush on Oito. That's obvious."

"She pretty."

"She is."

"Not pretty as you," Feitan added quickly. And then he scowled. "You know I rather figure it out with you."

Machi's heart skipped a beat in her chest. It felt so strange. Girlish, even. Innocent, in a way she'd never been and never cared to be. "I want—our baby to be loved. But I have no idea what it looks like."

"I maybe love you," offered Feitan. He turned to her, dark hair against his cheekbones, scarf hanging low.

Machi swallowed. _Do I love you?_

 _I don't know what it looks like._

 _I am afraid to trust you._

 _It's all just fear._ Not bravado, not hardened cynicism. _It's fear._

 _You make me less afraid, and more, and you make me stronger, and weaker, and I want it._ She felt like she'd been woken up and pulled from a glass coffin, by words she never wanted to hear nor thought of getting to hear, and yet when she heard them, it dislodged something in her throat, and it was like she could breathe again, and she needed to do something or else she'd fucking cry and she couldn't have that.

Machi leaned in, covering his lips with hers. He pushed her back, kissing her navel, and she knew he knew. She was afraid, sometimes. But he didn't see her as less than strong.

 _Maybe you do love me._

* * *

"Lonely again?"

He had seen her coming. Well, sensed her, not seen. Hisoka didn't bother to turn around and face her. "Are you stalking me?"

"Doesn't matter, does it?" Morena stood behind the bench he sat on. The sky was cluttered with clustered clouds, clipping out any semblance of sun. Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"They're worth more than that."

"Sex?"

"Not interested." Hisoka scowled.

Machi and Feitan were having a baby. And they were happy about it. And they were together, even after Machi didn't tell him right away. Not that Hisoka could blame Machi. But he envied her. _Fuck_.

"Do you have a conscience, or is it just that you really, really want that Zoldyck boy?"

"What _is_ your game?" Hisoka demanded. "How does this help you take down your stupid father or your brother or any of it?"

"I want to destroy everything," said Morena. "I hate you, you know. I hate you, and I hate everyone in that house, because you all tolerate each other. I can't tolerate anyone, or anything. People flock to me when I don't give a shit about them."

"Have you considered applying for the next level on your Edgelord Card?"

Morena slipped onto the bench, studying him. "But you're not like that. You just want to destroy yourself."

"Fuck off."

"No. See, you're just afraid that, for the first time in your life, you can't get what you want and it's entirely because of you and yourself and your own choices. But you can never get what you want, and you know it. That's why you're like this. Taht's why you're sleeping with anyone who smiles at you and drinking and dressing up for attention. Because you can never have what you want, so you'll settle for anything that temporarily provides a balm."

"You're wrong," Hisoka snapped. "That presumes I care about things. I don't."

"Ah," said Morena, a smile carving into her face. "But you wish you did. And you wish you didn't. You're a split person. You don't have any idea what it's like to be a person so you gave up. You think you fight, but you only fight because you've given up. And now that Illumi's called your bluff and given up on you, you can't handle it. Want to become like me?"

Hisoka gaped at her. "Shut up, you _bitch_!"

"He gave up on you."

"Shut up!"

"He doesn't like you. What if he never did? That's what haunts you, isn't it? What if you were wrong? What if Illumi was like me and what if you were always alone? What if all your experiences were lies?"

"They were still experiences I had!" Hisoka glared at her. "They were _real!"_ Illumi was warm under him, he left bruises, he lost control briefly and his face turned and it looked like he was in pain but he wasn't, and Hisoka knew he looked no better and Illumi smiled afterwards. "And that's all I wanted."

"You're trash," said Morena, glaring. "Trash. And you're boring besides. Just hurry it up and kill yourself, why don't you? You'd be doing Illumi a favor, wouldn't you? Or would that break him? Or would he not care? It's the only way to find out, perhaps."

"You're a fucking monster!"

"Illumi doesn't care about you," said Morena, peering closer. "You are worthless, and no amount of experiences will ever be enough to mask that fact. No matter how successful you become, no matter how much money you have, no matter how many people you sleep with. You're still a lost boy whom everyone moves past because a boy shivering on the streets would interrupt their perfect plans."

 _Fuck you!_

She rose. "Bye."

Hisoka watched her go. The world blurred. _Huh?_ He reached up, touching his face. It was wet. _Oh._

 _Look at me,_ he screamed as a child. People in their fancy overcoats and muffs ignored him, stepping onto a subway. _Just look at me! Look at me, somebody look at me! Look atme L ookat me Look at ME LOOK JUST FUCKING LOOK!_

So he became a clown, to ensure they would. Even if it was with derision, they acknowledged him. _I live, and you can't take that from me._

He thought of Machi, smiling, and running after Feitan. He thought of Killua, and Alluka, that lost child, coming for Illumi. He at least had people reaching for him.

 _You're wrong, Morena._

Hisoka got to his feet. He looked at his hands. Fuck cost. _I have to reach out. I have to try._

 _You saw me. At the very least, I want you to know that._

Giving up, after all, was not in his nature.


	13. Chapter 12: Diligence

_When the answers escape us when we start to fade_

 _Remember who loved you and the ones who have stayed_

 _'Cause my body will fail, but my soul will go on_

 _So don't you get lonely_

 _I'm right where you are_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

Kurapika staggered back into his apartment, tossing his books on his bed. Hanzo arched his eyebrows at him.

"What?" asked Kurapika.

Leorio and Pairo both leaned out of their respective bedrooms. Leorio's eyes fixated on him. "He has a hickey, Pairo."

"Hey!" Kurapika shrieked. He ducked his head and stormed into the kitchen to brew tea.

" _How are you feeling?" he asked Chrollo._

" _Shocked," Chrollo admitted, staring after Machi and Feitan. "I—didn't even know they were seeing each other. Not that it matters, but—"_

" _You're just mad you didn't know everything," Kurapika teased._

 _Chrollo shrugged, pulling his coat around himself. "I hope they don't want to leave."_

Chrollo wanted them to stay. Kurapika dipped a lavender tea bag into his chipped mug. Oito had studied her feet at that proclamation, and Kurapika thought of what he knew of her family and their reaction to Woble.

"What happened?" demanded Leorio. "You can't keep us in suspense. Who—"

"Aren't you getting it on with Cheadle?" Kurapika asked.

"No!" Leorio's jaw dropped. "She's—I mean—she's way out of my league."

Pairo smiled. Kurapika rolled his eyes. "I spent the night at Chrollo's."

Leorio let out a squeak. Pairo's smile turned into a frown, and there it was, that familiar sting in his abdomen, the one that told him he was letting them down, that he had been weighed and found wanting.

 _I am wanting._

 _I'm human._

"I'm sorry," Kurapika managed. "I don't mean to—upset any of you—but we've been talking, and we made out at that party the other night, and—"

"Well, good for you," declared Leorio.

"I like him," Kurapika whispered, staring at the tea bleeding out of the teabag, coloring the water amber and flavoring the liquid. "I really do like him. I was wrong." _We were both using each other, and I—I forgive him._

 _I want to be free. I don't want to feel this guilt anymore._ He lifted his head, meeting Leorio's eyes. "We're dating now. I guess."

"I'd hope so," muttered Hanzo.

"Pairo," Kurapika managed. "I know you won't approve, but—"

"Why?" Pairo interrupted, voice trembling.

"I—"

"No, why do you think I wouldn't approve, Kurapika? You're my cousin. You're Leorio's best friend. Why would you think we wouldn't want you to be happy? Why would you think our concern is anything other than that we don't want you to be hurt? If this is making you happy—I can tell from your voice that you're smiling, like how you used to smile, even if you aren't showing it anymore and even if I can't see it beyond your face being a blur so I don't know—I do trust you, Kurapika. I think you know. The only times I don't trust you are when you want to destroy yourself, but this—you sound really happy. I don't think you're trying to hurt yourself, not this time." Pairo managed a wavering smile, holding onto the counter.

Kurapika swallowed. He threw his arms around Pairo, holding him tight.

A crash. He turned. "Shit." The mug his parents had given him—it had crashed. Tea and porcelain scattered all over the floor.

"Not to worry," said Leorio. "We can glue it back together."

Kurapika nodded. He phoned Melody. "How is Palm?"

"She's hanging in," Melody said softly. "Milluki Zoldyck did say he would help, so she's talking with him now. It's giving her something to focus on, at the very least." She sighed.

"People are always like this, aren't they?" Kurapika asked. "Preying on the ones they can." Mentally unstable, like Palm, like Alluka. Not conventionally attractive, like Melody. Children on the streets, like Chrollo.

"Not always," said Melody. "Not us."

Kurapika closed his eyes.

"Tserriednich was also apparently talking to Bizeff," Melody said. "I don't know why, but I thought you should know."

"What, couldn't get an audience with his own father?"

"Probably not," Melody confirmed. "But just—be alert."

* * *

"Congratulations," Illumi said to Machi and Feitan. She arched her eyebrows.

"If I stay here and they stay here," said Kalluto. "I'll get to see their baby."

Illumi remembered when each of his siblings was born, except Milluki, because he was too young. He was always excited. He loved them. Even Alluka, when he first held her, and then—

 _How did I fall so far?_ And he didn't even notice he was falling until he crashed into the ground.

Kalluto wanted to stay with him. Not with Killua. Illumi didn't understand. Well, Killua did say he and Alluka would visit. "Thank you for staying," Illumi said as he headed for the stairway.

"Welcome," Kalluto said. He clutched the sleeves of his kimono. "Actually, I just really want—Kil and Alluka to come here."

"Hm?" Illumi turned, and he hated himself. Why did his heart sink at that? Why did he just want them to—want him? _Anyone_. Anyone at all.

"I wish you would take care of us," said Kalluto. "You and Milluki."

"I can't," Illumi said. "I'm afraid I blew that opportunity." He hurt Killua. He could never be forgiven for that, or for what he did to Alluka, treating her like she wasn't even human, and he was still—scared.

Kalluto swallowed. "I'm gonna go get hot chocolate from Machi."

Illumi watched him go. He pushed the door to his room open, remembering waking up to see Killua standing there like an angel. An angel he would have prayed for, if he believed in prayer.

His throat burned that day long ago. He opened bys eyes and found Killua there then, too, only three. " _Get well soon, Illu-nii."_

 _I want to get well, but I don't know how to even handle this_. He buried his face in his hand.

A knock. Illumi lifted his gaze. Hisoka leaned against the door. "Can I come in?"

Illumi nodded.

"Look," Hisoka said. "I said it before, so I'll say it again. I am sorry. I know you were hurt even though you pretend that you aren't, because you're a lot more sentimental than you appear to be. It's your greatest weakness."

"And yours is your lack thereof," Illumi retorted. But his barb felt weak, like the last tosses a dying man could manage.

Hisoka shrugged. He sat next to Illumi.

 _Why are you here? Why now? I mean nothing to you. I mean nothing to anybody. I never did_.

"Leave," said Illumi. "If you're just going to say I don't matter but I'm fun, or give good sex, or whatever, I don't care. I don't want to hear it. I already know it, okay?"

Hisoka sucked in his breath. "That's fucked up, Illumi."

"Look in the mirror."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "What did they do to you?" He raised his hands. "I'm just asking because you are—"

 _A puzzle for you to figure out. Well, fine. Have all the pieces._ "They wanted me to be the best, but they knew I wouldn't be. I don't know when, but soon after I started—living, I suppose." Illumi frowned. "But they kept trying. It must have been because they loved me. They kept trying, even when they knew I was a failure to them, and then maybe eventually they were punishing me; I don't know. For not being good enough. They were trying to love me, I know, but they still hurt—like I hurt Killua." He rested his chin on his knees. _You tried, at least, right?_

 _I definitely tried, at least. Killua sees that, at least. I can try, at least._

"The hell?" asked Hisoka. "Sorry, but I don't get families at all. That sounds like hell and just confirms parents suck."

Illumi almost smiled. "My father broke my arm once. They used to make us stay up all night and one time I tried to sneak coffee, and he made my mother hold my mouth open and poured it down my throat. It wasn't boiling, but it was close. I couldn't eat the entire rest of the day." His fingers drifted towards his throat.

"Jesus Christ," burst out Hisoka.

"Huh?"

Hisoka gaped at him. "Guess your home really wasn't any better than the streets. We have more in common than you'd think. I had people trying to chase me down too, and punish me."

"And did they?"

"I learned to turn it back on them," Hisoka answered.

"I helped," said Illumi. "My parents, training my siblings. Milluki, Killua, Kalluto. Especially Killua. I thought they trusted me with him." _Was that love, that trust? Why do I feel so hollow? Why am I still cold?_

Silence lapsed. "Heard Killua decided to show up earlier," Hisoka said.

Illumi gripped his knees. He nodded. "I don't deserve it."

"No," Hisoka agreed. "You don't."

Illumi scowled at him. "I am… glad he came. I'm still betraying them, but it's—I—" _My throat still burns, and it hurts._ "I tried to protect him, and I hurt him."

"Protect?" Hisoka arched his eyebrows.

"By giving Killua coffee when they made us stay up all night," Illumi explained.

"After your parents tortured you?"

"It wasn't—" He stopped himself. "Yes. After." _I love him._

 _I really do. He's my brother. I wanted to—protect something. I wanted to have something be mine. I wanted to love something and someone and I—I—_

"Seems pretty bold of you," commented Hisoka, tapping his chin with a long-nailed finger. "I'm impressed."

"I wasn't asking for your approval."

"No, and that's so interesting, because you ask for everyone's."

Illumi frowned.

"I think you know you have it," said Hisoka.

"Huh?" Illumi frowned. "If you wanted makeup sex, you know, you can just ask."

Hisoka threw his hands up in the air. "For God's sake, Illumi, shut up. It's cool that you can—I don't know, care about your brother even if it's twisted. You love people. I don't. I never have, and I've never wanted to. But you almost make me wonder what it would be like."

"It's just that I'm useful to you," Illumi said, heart thudding. "I always have been."

"Mm, but you're more interesting to me than anyone else ever has been."

Illumi studied his shoes. "I wish I didn't care."

"That'd be dumb," said Hisoka. "That'd just make you boring, because then you'd be me, and I like being the only me in this universe, thank you very much."

Illumi frowned. _Are you saying you like me?_

 _Ha. Ha. Funny. A good joke._

"I feel like things can change, with you," said Hisoka. "I mean, man, if Killua and you are actually talking again, that's fascinating. Anything could happen. Like my first thought was that you'd be more boring, but I don't think so."

"Please just say whatever you're dancing around."

"That's no fun. I'm a clown."

"You're a college student with a makeup kit and an ego larger than the planet: so, you're quite common."

Hisoka scowled. "Do you want to give it another shot? Not just—with benefits now. Not fake. Just. Actually trying. I've never tried before, so—"

Illumi laughed.

Hisoka's brows drew together. His earrings swung.

"This is the part where you tell me I was what, the best sex you ever had, and you're desperate?" Illumi asked.

"No," said Hisoka. "No, Illumi, especially the first time, you are pretty awkward. Your face crunches up and you almost look like you're crying and you really like kissing sloppily. But you were _real_ , then. You couldn't pretend you didn't care or that you didn't want anything. You weren't even _trying_ to pretend. And I loved that."

Illumi froze. His mouth hung open.

"I don't even know what that looks like, to give a damn about anything," Hisoka said. "But even though it looks like it hurts you, you still want it, and I don't think you're stupid so I want to try it."

Illumi squeezed his eyes shut. "Apparently, I don't know what it looks like to care about someone properly either."

"Sucks," Hisoka said.

Illumi opened his eyes and saw Hisoka almost smiling. "Why would I matter to you?" _Please. Please._

"Look," said Hisoka. "Without your stupid caring-too-muchness, you wouldn't be Illumi. And I'd be disappointed. We both go after what we want, but for you, you know. I don't know. I just want—to live. I want to prove I can live. But you don't make me feel like I have to fight for it and that's so goddamn frustrating I want to punch you in your perfect nose, but then—things wouldn't be okay and—"

 _You feel like things can be okay? They can't be. The world sucks._

 _But—_

 _But—_

Illumi leaned in. _With you_. He kissed Hisoka, sloppily, wet, like Hisoka had complained about. Hisoka snorted.

 _Teach me how to fight._

 _I want things to be okay, too. For all of us. For my siblings and me, and I don't know how to fight my parents. They're giants. Help me._

Illumi pulled back, resting his forehead against Hisoka's. "If you're my boyfriend, will you make me coffee?"

"Can I get makeup sex afterwards?"

A horde of footsteps pounded up the stairs. Boots. Illumi glanced at Hisoka, who stood up almost protectively. Illumi grasped his hand.

 _What the hell?_

* * *

 _Get home now,_ Machi texted Chrollo as he sat in the school's library, trying to study and instead remembering Kurapika kissing him the night before with the smell of preserved books acting as an elixir. He and Kurapika were getting dinner together.

Chrollo left the library, struggling to refrain from jogging. _Are you okay?_

No response. He gritted his teeth. What if she was losing the baby? What if—

Two unfamiliar cars were parked in front, and Tserriednich leaned against one of them, a smirk on his lips. Chrollo's breath left. _Oito!_

Tserriednich winked at him.

He sprinted into the house. Fuck dignity. The door slammed behind him. Hisoka stood in the living room with Illumi by his side. Machi and Feitan stood in front of Kalluto. Oito held Woble in one arm and Kalluto's shoulder in her other hand.

"What's going on?" Chrollo demanded.

"I'm telling you," came Uvogin's voice from the stairway. "None of us ever seen them before. Musta been here when Danchou—I mean, Chrollo—bought the place—"

 _Fuck!_ Chrollo barged up the stairs. He stopped two flights up. Uvogin and Shalnark stood there, and Kortopi too. And two uniformed cops stood several steps above them. In one of their arms was a jewelry box, cherry wood and glass.

"You the owner of this house?" asked the cop.

Chrollo stiffened. "I am."

"Then would you care to explain why there is stolen merchandise?"

Blood and panic roared between Chrollo's ears. This could not be happening. Not when he had just—when he and Kurapika and— "Would you care to explain how you got into my house?"

"We received a credible report of stealing from a professor on campus," said the cop. He turned and glanced at Kortopi. "And the kid let us in and told us to look around."

 _Shit_. Not that it was Kalluto's fault. Chrollo bit back a scowl. He couldn't risk it. He had to play cool, even though sweat was dribbling down his spine. "I—"

"We'll be taking you all to the police station," stated the cop. Downstairs, Woble wailed. "On suspicion of—"

"Don't," Chrollo interrupted. "Okay? Don't." His breaths came harsh, shaking him. He didn't want this. He wanted—

 _I really did just want them. Us._

"They had nothing to do with this," Chrollo added, stepping in front of the three men. "I stole them, okay? I confess. I admit it. They didn't help; they didn't know. I bought the house with my own money but then to upkeep it I—they had nothing to do with it, I promise."

He was begging. Christ, he'd never begged before. Not even on the streets when he hadn't eaten in two days and his stomach felt like rats were inside of it, biting and clawing in a desperate attempt to get food he couldn't give it.

"Danchou!" bellowed Uvogin.

"Shalnark—" Chrollo started. _Shut your boyfriend up!_ He couldn't bear it if he led to them all—

 _I put them all at risk. I did. It's my fault it's my fault it's my goddamn bloody fault!_

"Turn around," said the officer, and Chrollo wasn't sure if he obeyed or not, but he felt handcuffs clicking onto his wrists, metal cold against his skin, and the cop took him by the elbow and escorted him out, and he knew, he knew, he knew they would all be homeless now.

 _I really ruined everything._

He couldn't even look at them. At the very least, Kurapika wasn't here to see his shame.

* * *

"It's a crime scene right now," Illumi said. "We can't stay there." He held Kalluto's shoulders. "You'll get to stay with Killua. It'll be okay." His lip trembled. Hisoka scowled as he looked away.

"Mom and Dad," Kalluto started. "Our parents—"

Illumi covered his face. Oito's heart felt like it was too heavy for her chest as she watched. Illumi was in such deep trouble.

"I'll drive you over to Mito Freecss'," said Hisoka.

 _Where am I going to go_? She could feel Tserriednich watching the house from where he stood. Probably waiting for her. She wanted to cry. Woble wailed, and she didn't even have the heart to comfort her.

 _Chrollo, really?_

 _You were all thieves?_ She didn't believe for a second that Chrollo was the only one who knew about the stash upstairs. She shivered.

"I'll contact Kurapika," said Pakunoda. "We have to—"

"How?" demanded Feitan. He had his arm around Machi's waist.

"If we cut our—we might be able to stay—" Phinks started.

Machi glared at him.

"You'd really do that?" Oito demanded.

"Why do you have to choose between them?" blurted out Kalluto. "I mean—I still—" He swallowed, a child with everyone now looking at him. "I want to be a Zoldyck, but not with my parents, so—"

 _Can't you find a new house? Or try to save both?_

"I want to help Chrollo," said Feitan. He clutched Machi's hand.

Phinks swallowed. He nodded.

"After I drop Kalluto off," said Illumi. "I can get us all hotel rooms. I still have a card from my parents."

"They'll be mad!" Kalluto protested.

Illumi looked down at his shoes. "I don't care." He glanced at Oito. "That includes you, too."

She pressed her lips together, thinking of the house where she and her siblings grew up. It was still standing, her parents still comfortably there even if it was cramped, but they wouldn't want her or Woble back. They'd say she should take Nasubi's punches. They'd say it would toughen Woble up.

 _I don't believe that anymore. You're wrong. I don't want to believe that._

Two hours later, and Oito found herself in a hotel not unlike the kind Nasubi would have frequented. Illumi insisted on giving her and Woble their own room, even though most people had to double up. And it felt empty.

Woble was sleeping, finally, and Oito dropped onto the bed. Tears soaked the lavender satin sheets. She just wanted—she just wanted—

 _I want you to be okay._

 _You are okay._

 _Why am I still crying?_

 _It's my fault._

A few minutes later came a knock on the door. Oito peeked out. Phinks. Thank God. She yanked it open.

"Franklin and I are across the hall," said Phinks. "All of us are on this floor. You're not alone, and if there's a problem, call one of us and we'll be right there."

So he was worried about Tserriednich too. Oito swallowed, nodding. She shut the door behind him.

"You okay?" Phinks asked awkwardly. He gestured towards her face, which was probably blotchy.

Oito shrugged. She headed over to where she'd laid Woble down. "If I hadn't—Tserriednich wouldn't have—"

"Not your fault," Phinks interjected.

"You knew, didn't you?" asked Oito.

Phinks shifted. "Yeah. I helped Chrollo. I mean, we all did—the group of us that came here from Meteor City. We were kinda a group running around together." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit. "We had to steal to survive there."

"Did you have to steal all of that?" asked Oito.

Phinks glanced at her. "No."

"But you did anyways."

"We wanted more," said Phinks. He cussed. "We always wanted more."

 _I used to._

 _I don't remember what that felt like._

"And you're okay with letting Chrollo take the fall?"

"No, but he'd never forgive us if we turned ourselves in." Phinks swore again, gripping his skull. "I have to—we will—help him."

"You want him back?"

"'Course. He's our friend. He's—" Phinks shrugged. "Well, never had a family, but if I did, he would be part of it."

 _You want to help him. My parents, even when I'd just—had a child—they wouldn't take me in when they could._ "I want to help, too."

Phinks turned to her. "You don't—"

"I don't even know what I can do," said Oito, studying her daughter. Woble's chest rose and fell. "I just have to help. I don't—I've always felt like a burden to my parents, and then a thing for Nasubi to show off, and I—if I stay I feel like Tserriednich will keep coming after—because he wants what he wants and he wants his father's—"

"I don't care," said Phinks. "You're worth it."

"Huh?" Oito gaped at him.

His face was the color of a pomegranate. "I mean—to me, you are worth it, so—we—our group has always—we didn't even kick out Hisoka even though we hated him, so—"

"Thank you," Oito said quietly.

"Sorry," he stammered. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm just saying it. Because it's worth telling you."

 _I'm worth that to you._

 _Why? How?_

She thought of Illumi, and how she could see what he wanted riddled in his face, and how he still was sending Kalluto away. _I don't want to be like that._ And she thought of Tserriednich, and how what he wanted consumed him.

"Sorry," Phinks said again. "I mean, I'm a thief. Probably not the company you want your daughter to be around, but if we can help you just for this time in your life, we—"

"You're a thief, but you're a better person than Nasubi or Tserriednich," said Oito.

Phinks swallowed.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him.

* * *

Kurapika sank onto his bed, staring at Pakunoda. Leorio and Pairo stood to the side, watching as she stared, her face expressionless when he could tell from her tone that she was anything but.

 _Fuck._

 _Chrollo, you idiot._

"I figured you would need to know," Pakunoda said, turning to leave.

"Wait," said Kurapika. He got to his feet. "Can I visit him? Is he actually in jail?"

"I don't know. It'll be—not good for him. I heard the school's already involved as well. There's a significant chance he'll be expelled. Hisoka got a warning from Netero."

Kurapika clutched his chin. _This can't be happening._

 _They stole. It was wrong. They're thieves, and this is justice._

 _No, this isn't. I wanted people to—_ be better.

 _No, I wanted them punished, to feel better about myself, to punish myself. I didn't want justice after all, not ever. I just wanted—someone else to be in pain, too._

 _But if justice exists, it would be merciful._

"Leorio," whispered Kurapika. "Cheadle—"

"I'll call her, but I don't know if they can do any more cases pro bono."

"I have an inheritance," Kurapika said. "From my parents." He met Leorio's gaze. He couldn't look at Pairo. "For the criminal case. I'll pay for it. It's not serious, is it?"

"I'm no law student; I don't know." Pakunoda sighed. "He'll definitely be expelled."

Kurapika gritted his teeth. He remembered the past year, since his parents died, that feeling of drifting, tumbling through a void with no air to breath and yet no way to die, and he was screaming for someone to love him, and he couldn't even hear himself. And he thought he'd finally found someone to hold him.

No, he found someone to help him see. Because he always had those people, even after his parents died.

Pairo. Leorio. Killua and Gon, even. Now Chrollo.

"Tserriednich is working with Bizeff," he said. "It's _wrong_." _That is the opposite of justice._

 _If anyone should be expelled or fired, it should be them! Nasubi. Tserriednich. Bizeff. But they'll be protected, won't they?_

He still couldn't regret helping Palm.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Kurapika looked up. Pairo, comforting him.

 _I believe there's good in you, even if you fucked up. You believed it about me._

 _And I'm going to make sure you know, Chrollo, just how loved you are._


	14. Chapter 13: Charity

_You are the sun in the desolate sky_

 _And your life's in these words and it can't be denied_

 _Wherever you take me, it's clear I will go_

 _Your love's the one love that I need to know_

 _Your love's the one love that I need to know_

 _~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls_

* * *

Hisoka checked his email and groaned. Netero was not happy at all to find out he'd been living in a house with stolen goods. His scholarship was even more at risk now.

Hisoka hadn't actually stolen any of it, but he didn't see the point in bringing that up. No one would care, including himself. He knew about it, obviously. Kurapika's lawyer friend said that they were taking Chrollo's case, and it wouldn't be hard to work out a plea bargain. But that was jail time, not whether or not he could stay at college, which seemed unlikely.

And Hisoka felt no sense of glistening satisfaction over it. All he felt was his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms. Like it or not, Chrollo did let him live there even if against his better judgement. Maybe that was why Hisoka wanted to mess with him so badly. He never did well with charity. He always presumed people were using it to get something from helping another. Which Chrollo was.

But was it all bad? Was he trying to hurt them?

Hisoka did not know how to answer that question.

The house was cleared for them to move back to within three days, during which Hisoka skipped classes because he didn't feel like getting arrested himself if he saw Tserriednich and losing his reputation for fighting that bastard for someone else. Soon an email from Netero appeared in his inbox about that precise subject.

 _Get off my case,_ Hisoka wrote back to him.

"Stop sabotaging yourself," Illumi snapped. He sat up next to Hisoka.

"Aren't you supposed to be picking up Kalluto?" Hisoka asked. "He's coming back, right?"

"I suppose," said Illumi.

"You're sabotaging yourself too, you know," taunted Hisoka.

Illumi scowled. "Don't try to twist it back to me. Part of you wants to get kicked out, right? So then you can fight back and still succeed? Well, what if you don't? What if you actually lose? Chrollo's losing now, you know."

Hisoka produced the heart-shaped stress ball, squeezing it. "You can just say that you care." He tossed his boyfriend a smirk.

Illumi studied him.

"I don't want to get kicked out." Hisoka leaned back. "I don't know what I want." And he didn't like this sense of confusion, of not knowing, of not having a clear and concise goal. Which is what he would have to face if he graduated. At least if he didn't, he could find a new school. But he refused to lose at anything. No challenge was worth that humiliation. "I don't lose." He did not want to go through anything like what Chrollo was going through.

Illumi clucked his tongue. "You don't want to lose to Netero and do what he expects of you, then. So it's a tightrope."

"I'm breaking up with you."

"No you aren't."

 _I'm not good with charity. Not at all_. Hisoka leaned back. "I don't want to be the school's poster child for their do-gooding for poor kids. Especially when the school has trash like Nasubi and what's-his-face working here. Bizeff."

 _I don't want to be their doll. I don't want to be anyone's toy. I want to be me. I want to be able to do what I want. I want to make my own choices. I want to be me._ People who had prestige and the right to do that without ever fighting for it—he despised them. _Is there even a way to do that without making dolls of everyone around you?_

 _I don't want you as a doll. I like you as you._

Illumi reached for him, and Hisoka thought, again, of how he broke Illumi's expectations of him. _I don't want to be in a cage._

Illumi grew up in a cage, but he never looked at Hisoka like he had to fight for his respect. Even when he shouldn't have it, he had it. And he couldn't explain that, but it was a chain and yet it was freeing, too. _I want to be me. But, I want to be yours._

"You don't have to be," said Illumi. "I think you'd get to decide. If they think they own you, show them they don't. And if you want to be, you can always expose them for their bullshit."

What Illumi gave him, he couldn't earn. He'd done nothing to earn it. Was it charity, then? _Then why don't I hate it?_

He knew why. _You are the same._

He rested his hand on the back of Illumi's neck. "Go get your brother."

"I will." Illumi got to his feet. He bit his lip.

"You know," said Hisoka. "It's not that you don't have power in your family. It's that you don't know how to use it properly."

"Huh?" Illumi gaped.

"Your siblings need you," Hisoka said. "Because kids are stupidly needy like that. Including Killua. Some stability might be nice."

"I don't understand."

"Maybe stopping fighting them for your parents doesn't mean not fighting at all, but fighting for them. I'd help you." And that was why they worked. "Your parents wouldn't have to put Alluka and Killua and Kalluto through a trial then. You're the only shot at not having one."

"I'm testifying—"

"So?"

"I don't know whether they'd want me to!" Illumi cried out. He clutched his hair. "I—hate myself! I don't know what to do, I don't know how to—love them—"

"It's not rocket science, Illumi. Ask them." Hisoka had a strong suspicion he knew what they'd say. It was definitely what Kalluto wanted. "If you move out, I'll go with you. Pakunoda says it's better for families to stay together, anyways."

"Stop quoting our psychology major friend."

"Oh, so you're admitting we have friends?"

"So are you?"

"When we first met I heard you telling Killua no one needed friends!"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Can't. Gotta pick up my brother. And no, I'm not sending you nudes to help you out." Illumi swished out of the room.

Hisoka flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars stared down at him, not glowing, but they didn't need to be.

When he eventually dragged himself to that bench on campus, it took only twenty minutes for her to approach. "Yes?"

"You live in one of the nearby dorms, don't you?" Hisoka asked. This time he turned around to face her, resting his arm on the back of the bench.

She shrugged.

"You heard what Tserriednich arranged for. He got a professor to call the police."

"Shocking."

"I'm going to destroy him," Hisoka said icily. "As much as I can."

Morena blinked. "Why?"

"Illumi and I got back together."

She laughed. "Pathetic. So he is weak."

"No," said Hisoka. "He's strong. And you're still a lonely bitch determined to lash out, so maybe do some good with it instead of drowning like some nihilistic turd."

She arched her eyebrows. "Classy."

He snorted. "Neither us of should pretend to be."

"What are you asking me to do? I have no interest in helping Chrollo Lucilfer or your little house of horrors."

"Nothing," Hisoka said. "Whatever you plan to do, if you have a plan. I just wanted to rub it in your face that Illumi and I got back together. Chew on that." He turned and sauntered off. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was staring at the brown grass. Well, he'd tried to be Machi and Feitan for her. Up to her now.

* * *

"I hate this," Machi said, staring into her hot chocolate, her face green. Feitan sat next to her, pressing her wrist for acupressure. "I want everyone back."

Oito swallowed her chai. The spice stung. And still, the feeling that it was her fault bit into her, shaking her like a savage dog, refusing to let her go in its quest to kill and consume her. She'd always felt this way, hadn't she? Just less viciously. Her parents were constantly complaining about having one more mouth to feed. Constantly. The looks they gave her.

She tried to get straight As, to please them. They never even looked. And then she decided to keep getting them, to escape. Not for herself. It'd never been for herself.

 _I want to survive._

 _I want to live._

 _I want Woble to live. I don't want her to just endure._

She finished her chai. The door opened, and Illumi entered with Kalluto. Kalluto ran immediately to Machi and Feitan, and Illumi lowered his gaze. "Oito?"

"Yes?" She washed her mug out.

"Can you get me in touch with Cheadle?" He kept his voice low.

"Hm?"

He glanced at Kalluto. "I want to talk to her about if it'd even be possible to—to try to get custody of my siblings."

Oito's eyes widened.

"I still want to be a family," Illumi insisted. "If they want to—I mean—I want to ask if she even thinks it'd be possible before I talk to them about it."

 _Because you're scared_. "You should talk to Mito Freecss, too. She was only eighteen when she got custody of Gon," said Oito.

Illumi swallowed. He nodded. "And you're taking Woble, and we're the same age—so—it's probably even more of a commitment for you; she's so young—"

"She's my daughter," Oito said, voice wobbling.

"Still," said Illumi, staring out the window onto the green lawn, lit up by the sun. "I think that's brave."

 _Me? Brave_? She just wanted to protect her child. Kids in general. She wasn't anything special, and she certainly wasn't brave.

Illumi gave her a small smile.

"I'll text her number to you," Oito promised.

He nodded and headed towards the stairs, climbing two at a time. Hisoka waited upstairs, surely.

 _You still want your siblings. You love them._

"Hey Machi," said Oito. "I have a favor to ask you."

That evening, Kurapika visited and asked them all for a statement. Chrollo's expulsion hearing was coming up even before his court date.

"Do you think it'll work?" Phinks asked Oito afterwards.

"I think we have to try," Oito said. She wiped at her eyes.

He put his hand on her shoulder, patting awkwardly.

"Machi's watching Woble for a few hours," said Oito. "Practice. So if you wanted to talk…"

Phinks nodded. He hesitated. "Have you ever been to my room?"

She shook her head, following him down the hallway. The room was decorated with crookedly-hung sports posters, a mini basketball hoop that one might buy for a five year old, and a bookcase with movies piled high in uneven stacks. Phinks scratched the back of his head. "Seems like kinda a mess."

"That's okay," said Oito, investigating his movie collection.

"You know," said Phinks, standing in front of the bed that was not made. "If you wanted to go back to school, if we all live in this huge house, then Woble would never be without someone to watch her, and—"

"That's not sustainable forever," Oito pointed out. She found a copy of _Cinderella_ and smiled.

"Does it have to be forever?"

Oito paused. Her heart hammered in her throat. She held up the movie, smirking at him.

"Oh, I think I probably stole that one."

She arched her eyebrows.

"I'm a thief," he said, shrugging.

"Still? Forever?"

"No," said Phinks. "I'm about to graduate. With a real degree." He puffed out his chest, as if proud.

"It was my favorite movie as a little girl," said Oito. "I wanted to be _Cinderella_. I thought I could be."

"Nasubi was more like you married the dad."

Oito laughed. "True. And I was dark haired, and—"

"So? I think your hair is beautiful. And you're kind, like her."

"So you have seen it." Oito pointed her finger at him.

"Everyone has!" he protested.

"I bet you have other kids cartoons in here." He did. _Beauty and the Beast. Rapunzel. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White._

"Well, if Woble wants to—"

She grabbed the back of his neck, standing on tiptoe. He gaped down at her. She brushed her lips against his. "Sorry. Please don't think I'm a slut." Her face burned. Why had she said that? And she didn't even ask—

"I mean," said Phinks. "I kind of wouldn't care if you were? I'm a thief. We were just discussing that. And for the record, I know you're not."

She blinked. _You want it too, don't you?_

 _Something, someone, a smile._

He leaned down, pressing his lips against hers again. He cupped her chin, and he broke through her lips, mouth exploring hers. He was careful, gentle, curious. Nasubi had always been—determined. He acted like all he knew were porn films, despite having kids by seven other women.

"I think—you're beautiful," Phinks gasped, breaking away for a moment before diving back down. "I think—you're kind—you don't have to be perfect—"

 _It's not perfect._

 _It doesn't have to be._

 _It's beautiful._

Oito drew back, panting. She reached for her silk top and undid the strings. It fell to her waist, and she yanked it off. She fumbled with her bra strap.

Phinks's eyes bugged. His mouth opened and closed. "Are you for real?"

"If you want to," said Oito.

"Hell yeah," said Phinks. He rubbed his eyes.

"Haven't you seen a boob before?" She couldn't resist teasing him.

"Not _yours_!"

She laughed.

"You _are_ special," Phinks murmured into her ear. "You are. You are."

She lay on her back, Phinks kissing her chest, caressing her face as he treated her body like it was a precious statue. She pulled his tracksuit off, and he glanced at her, checking if it was okay before pulling her skirt and underwear away.

Phinks was slow, careful, as if afraid of breaking her. She dug her fingers into his ribs, feeling the space between. She arched her back up, kissing his neck, his chin, his chest.

 _So this is what it's like… to be with someone who cares. To want and have wanted the wrong things and want again and still go for it. To try again._

 _It's not perfect._

 _But—it's worth a shot._

When both of them shook, Phinks held her against his damp chest, his hair just as missed as hers. He exhaled, and she closed her eyes.

 _I feel safe._

* * *

"Are you for real right now?" Palm gaped at Melody.

"Unfortunately," Melody said with a sigh. "I wish Kurapika could get a break."

 _None of us can, can we?_ Melody had to live with her dead friend and her body permanently disfigured in a car wreck, and yet. And yet, she seemed so at peace.

 _I could get a break if just one person loved me_. Palm pulled her knees to her chest. She leaned back against the couch. Kurapika had found that person, and now it was all falling apart. She watched as Komugi hummed to herself as she puttered around the kitchen. "At least you have Meruem," Palm said.

"Hm?" Komugi turned around. "Oh! Yeah. And now his friends and I get along."

Youpi, Pitou, and Pouf. Even Pouf. Crazy. Palm tugged at her hair. "Pouf hasn't like tried to steal your homework or anything?"

"Not lately. I think he was just scared of losing his friend. And now we're friends, too. It took time, though."

And effort. Palm bit her lip. Her blood tasted bitter today.

"Tserriednich is involved," Melody said. "It's just that he's bitter at Oito. If he wasn't, this wouldn't be happening. Granted, Chrollo did steal, but still. It's unfair."

"Tserriednich?" snapped Palm. Her heart suddenly picked up pace. She remembered what Milluki had said.

Melody frowned. "Yes."

 _It won't help Chrollo._ But—but— _they're going to keep using their power to hurt people, right?_

"I can help Kurapika," said Palm. "I mean, for Chrollo. Since he helped me."

Melody blinked.

"And I have something to do." Palm turned on her heel and stalked out of the apartment. She dialed Milluki.

"Who makes phone calls any more?" he greeted her.

"You answered, so shut up," Palm said. "Do you still have footage of Tserriednich visiting Bizeff? Do they like time up with his other—tapes?" She squeezed the phone so tightly her knuckles ached.

"I could check," Milluki said carefully. "Why?"

"I want to _know_ ," Palm said. Her breaths came harsh, scraping her nostrils, her throat. "They're both creeps, right? They're both—they—"

"Hey Palm," said Milluki. "Okay, I'll check, but like don't—"

She hung up. The world felt like it was closing in around her, like trees were the teeth of a monster known as this fucking world, and they were going to gobble her up, the the grass was a scratchy tongue her feet were stuck to, like the sky was trapping her like a roof of a mouth, like the clouds lurking on the horizon were lips closing, closing, closing.

She came to and realized she was outside of Tserriednich's dorm room. Her fingernails had dug into her forearms. Blood dribbled down but it felt cold instead of warm and that was _wrong_. She shook from head to toe.

"Palm!" huffed a voice.

She turned. Milluki Zoldyck jogged up to her, panting. He looked warm. She was jealous. Always jealous. "What?"

"Why are you here?"

"You know why."

"Listen, Palm, I checked just a few and they do seem to line up with him visiting before, but—"

"They're working together," Palm said. "He gave me my drink that night. I didn't finish it though. Maybe that's why I was able to push Bizeff off and run out."

Milluki's face drained of color. "And what are you going to do?"

Her eyes latched onto the door. "I don't know. Something. Anything. I'm sick of—I always have to—wait and do— _nothing_."

"Palm, we can go to—"

"No."

"Okay, but—"

The door to the dorm opened. And he came out, blond hair dangling down his collar. Palm broke into a run, charging at him. Milluki let out a whimper.

"Do I know you?" asked Tserriednich.

"You drugged me," Palm said. "You tried to. I know you did. For Bizeff. You find him girls, don't you? In exchange for what? Do you both do it together? Do you have orgies? Or does he give you some kind of fatherly affection or—"

"You're that insane freshman, right?" Tserriednich asked. "The stalker one. Go back to whatever freakshow of a manga you escaped from."

"It's true and everyone knows you're a bloody rapist!" Palm screamed.

"Take her away," Tserriednich commanded Milluki.

Milluki scowled. "No. She's not something I control. She's a person."

"If you want to talk about abusers, hon, look at his family," said Tserriednich. "Keep spreading rumors and I'll sue you for libel."

 _I can't win._

 _This world—sucks._ Palm clenched her fists. _Give me_ — _something! Anything!_

"Slut," Tserriednich added before he tossed his hair.

Milluki swung at him. Tserriednich yelped, stumbling backwards with blood spurting from his nose. He glared up at Milluki from his knees. "You _prick!"_ His shriek came out garbled.

"You aren't invincible," Milluki informed him.

"Fuck you," Palm said. Air flooded her lungs. Her fingers tingled. She could move again. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. If it's the last thing I do, I will get you kicked out of this university." She grabbed Milluki's arm, dragging him away.

"The fuck?" Milluki panted.

"That was awesome," Palm said. "Thanks for hitting him."

"He deserved it."

Palm swallowed. "Time to talk to Cheadle."

"Or to me," interrupted another voice. A woman with two scars over her eyes and a weird headband smiled at them. "Tserriednich is my wicked half-brother."

* * *

Jail fucking sucked. After the first night when they fingerprinted him, took his photograph with a jailbird number in front of him, and then led him to a cell, Chrollo pretty quickly realized this was a part of the human experience he never wanted to experience. It was cold in his cell and he was alone and he was lonely. Even if only for less than a week so far, this place made Chrollo feel like his brain was dissolving and running in rivulets out his ears and eyes and nose and mouth. He couldn't take it any more. Not even books, his typical friends, would comfort him.

Kurapika must hate him for sleeping with him while being a thief. Hell, Kurapika probably hated himself now for it, too. Instead of helping Kurapika he'd only hurt him worse than he had to begin with. Chrollo bit his wrist, the salty sting of blood on his tongue reminding him that he was, for now, alive, and he wasn't terribly happy about it. He wasn't sad, either. He didn't know what to feel, except that he hated it here and that he was a complete and utter failure, and he'd lost what he was desperate for just when he finally had it.

Kurapika would probably tell him to save his apologies. Chrollo squeezed his eyes shut. _You really couldn't trust me._

 _But I'm sorry._

Tears leaked down his face. He didn't remember the last time he'd cried. If he ever had.

"You," said a guard. "Get your things."

 _Huh?_ Chrollo dragged himself to his feet.

"You bailed me out?" Chrollo gaped at Mizaistom.

"Lawyer, so no," said Mizaistom. "Your expulsion hearing is tomorrow and we felt you should be there. I convinced a judge to let you out."

"Thanks."

Mizaistom drove him to a cheap motel, telling him to be on time the next morning. Chrollo wondered if he could call his friends. But the cops had taken his phone.

 _I'm so alone._

 _I wanted to be separate._

 _But not like this._

He thought of Kurapika, of kissing him and the noises he made, and how Kurapika must now know just how fucked up he was. Mr. Justice would never be able to look at him now, would he?

 _I wish I could be like you._

His friends were probably all kicked out of that house too, now. All homeless. Oito would have nowhere to go, Machi and Feitan were expecting a kid, Illumi—

 _Everyone I tried to help, I hurt. When they were most vulnerable._

Chrollo didn't sleep the entire night.

Mizaistom met him as he approached the president's office building. He gestured to Chrollo's forehead. "Shouldn't you be hiding that?"

Chrollo frowned. "There's no point." They already thought him a delinquent, so why not confirm it, get it over with? "I don't care what happens to me. I just don't want them to take it out on my friends."

Mizaistom sighed. "Okay, kid."

Chrollo didn't like being called that. Maybe because he'd never been called that. He folded his arms, heading up the stairs to the president's board room, where the school's committee would judge him. Nasubi was on the committee.

"Nasubi's been asked to recuse himself," Mizaistom said, hand gripping Chrollo's shoulder.

Didn't matter. Everyone else would know him and certainly—

Chrollo froze when he reached the hallway. _What? What is this? What his happening what—_

"Chrollo!" burst out Kurapika, leaping to his feet. Long benches lined the walls, and— _everyone_ from his house was there. Even Hisoka, hand on Illumi's knee. Oito, with Woble, sitting next to Phinks. Machi, still looking like it was all she could do not to puke. Nobunaga, looking like he was contemplating stabbing everyone around him. Leorio Paladiknight and Pairo flanked Kurapika.

Chrollo let out an oof when Kurapika grabbed him in a hug. "Wh—" _I don't understand!_

"We're here for you," said Uvogin gruffly. "Danchou."

Kurapika pulled away.

"But…" Chrollo swallowed. Hell, Melody, Komugi with Meruem, Palm Siberia—they were here too.

Kurapika's eyes were red. They stole Chrollo's breath. "It's gonna be okay."

 _How?_

 _You know I did it, don't you? You know, and you're still here—for me?_

"Let's go," said Mizaistom, pushing Chrollo through the crowd and into the room. He and Chrollo took seats at the end of the table. Netero sat at the other end, and next to him sat Professor Hill. Not a single face was friendly, and he knew in his bones at that moment that there was no chance.

Chrollo stiffened. _Dammit._

"Let's get started," said Netero as the door shut with a click. "Regarding the criminal charges—"

"We will be pleading guilty in exchange for community service," Mizaistom interrupted. Stupid lawyers. Speaking for you.

"Fine then." Netero cleared his throat. "We have here dozens of character statements."

"Huh?"

"All of them are speaking in favor of your character, Mr. Lucilfer," Netero said. "From your housemates, and some classmates and even some graduate students concerning an incident at a party—"

 _What? How did—_ Chrollo swallowed. _I might as well go all in, right? This hearing's decided, isn't it?_

 _I'll do what I can with what I have._ "You realize you have the perpetrator of that incident employed at this school? I don't care if you kick me out, but you should kick him out, too."

"Please shut up," hissed Mizaistom.

"What incident?" asked Professor Hill. "I believe we all—"

"Don't deserve to know, because none of us believe you'll do anything about it," said Chrollo.

"Palm Siberia stated it in her statement," said Netero. "The committee does not need to know."

"Why is Professor Hui Guo Rou still here when he beat his wife?" asked Chrollo. "Why am I being judged by colleagues of his? Why am I expected to think that's just? And who the hell gives you the right to judge me for stealing from the rich to survive when he beat his wife for no reason and Professor Bizeff's a rapist and—"

"Good Robin Hood reference," muttered Professor Hill.

"A what?" demanded Professor Freecss, seemingly waking up from his nap. "What the—"

"Oh, and _this_ one ditched his kid," said Chrollo. "Don't pretend you give a shit about morality when you don't. You just want to look good."

Netero arched his eyebrows. A slight smile spread on his face. Mizaistom exhaled.

"Do you even _want_ to stay at this school?" asked Netero.

"Yes," said Chrollo. "No. I don't know. I don't care. If I want to learn morality I'll go to my friends sitting outside. Not to you. You can make any judgment you like. I don't care."

 _Because I'll be okay._

 _No matter what you decide._

 _They came for me. They wrote for me. Kurapika—you did it all because you forgave me, and because I—I never held it against you._

 _I have so much to learn from all of you._

"Why do they call you Danchou? Sounds like a cult," mused Professor Hill.

"Your mind is already made up, I see," said Chrollo. "But for the record, it's because we ran around on the streets of Meteor City together and they wanted me to lead them. I never asked. And I do want to stay here. But you won't let me because of the rules saying no one with a criminal record can stay without review, and you're too busy with your own endeavors to give a shit about what might motivate me to do that."

"And you led your friends here and not out of thievery," continued Professor Hill, smile still pleasant in his face. "A shame you don't understand responsibility."

"I do understand it," said Chrollo. "Now. Probably better than you, I'm guessing." _I can hurt people I don't even know yet, but people who will matter to me. Like Kurapika. And even if not to me, they'll matter to someone._

 _We all matter, don't we?_


	15. Chapter 14: Kindness

_"Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairytales again."_

 _~C.S. Lewis_

* * *

When the door opened, Kurapika leaped to his feet. Melody, Pairo, and Leorio had been taking turns trying to distract him. It hadn't worked.

Chrollo emerged first. He gave a shrug. "I got expelled."

 _Shit_. Kurapika deflated. _So was this all for nothing? Was there no point? Why? Why? Why?_

"Thank you," Chrollo choked out, and then Kurapika realized he was looking straight at Kurapika, and Chrollo's eyes were watering. "Thank you all."

"Never seen Danchou cry before," muttered Franklin.

"I'll kill," Feitan declared, his eyes glowing as he took a step towards the board room. Machi stomped on his foot. "Ow!"

"I'm not sad," said Chrollo. "I mean, I am. I'm pissed. They're all stuck up elitists with planks in their eyes and sticks up their asses. But thank you. For coming. And for writing those statements." He met Kurapika's gaze. "It was your idea, wasn't it?"

Kurapika nodded. "I'm—sorry." _That it didn't work. That I'm still—_

Chrollo grabbed him in a hug. Kurapika froze. _Really? In public?_

Hisoka let out a whistle. Kurapika flipped him off.

"You're free for now," Mizaistom said. "Though you're not allowed on campus. But you're allowed to go home. I'll let you know when we have to meet with the district attorney."

Chrollo nodded, pulling back. "Thank you."

"Make my job easy and show up," Mizaistom requested.

"Okay," said Chrollo. His hand clutched Kurapika's. He looked around at all the faces. "Are—"

"Your house is still yours," said Leorio.

"Oh. Thank you." Chrollo swallowed. "I see Hisoka and Illumi worked it out," he hissed in Kurapika's ear as they headed off campus. Security escorted them. Chrollo held his head high. Kurapika squeezed his hand. _So what if they think I'm a criminal, too? So what?_

 _I'd rather be just and admit when I'm not than pretend._

Chrollo yawned when they entered the house. "It's good to be back."

"We missed ya, Danchou," Uvogin said gruffly.

"I've always been curious what jail is like," commented Hisoka.

Shalnark hurled his phone at him. Hisoka caught it. "Hey!"

Chrollo rolled his eyes. "I'm going upstairs." He gestured to Kurapika. "Want to come?"

He nodded. They made it to Chrollo's room, where Chrollo shut the door and then fell backwards onto the bed. "Ugh, it's so good to be back here. Jail was a drag. They make you wear ugly uniforms." He tugged his tie off. "I hated it."

Kurapika sat next to him. "I'm sorry it wasn't enough." His voice cracked. What would Chrollo do now?

"At least I won't have to go back, according to Mizaistom." Chrollo peered up at him. "Thank you. It was enough. They're all a bunch of prigs anyways."

"But I wanted—" _You to_ stay.

 _I wanted a second chance, for you, for me._

"It did work," Chrollo said, voice muffled as his wrist rested over his mouth.

"You got expelled, idiot."

"Not that." Chrollo closed his eyes. "You all—I wasn't crying because I got expelled. It sucks but I'm used to it. I'm used to fate—to the world—to—unfairness. And I—"

"Well, it still sucks," Kurapika said.

"Yeah," Chrollo said, swallowing. "It does. But—you all cared. You all came. I wouldn't have—expected that in a million years. I don't—I—"

"People love you," said Kurapika. "Everyone in this house, even Hisoka in whatever weird way he can conceive of love. It wasn't all in vain. Even if it was wrong."

Chrollo removed his hand. His lips were trembling."I was crying because you all cared."

"Oh." Kurapika blinked. He hadn't expected that. Then again...

"That makes me think that maybe I'm wrong," Chrollo whispered. "That things don't have to be all fate. That people can change, and—that you're with me not because of some weird twist of fate but because you want to—"

"Are you actually philosophizing about why I'm dating you?" Kurapika demanded. His heart pounded. _If... if..._

 _I'm with you not because I got to know you more, but because you also changed. Both, together._

 _Today sucked, but we can try again. You and I tried again._

 _You are hope to me._

Chrollo scowled.

Kurapika actually laughed at him. When he opened his eyes again, Chrollo's face was soft, and a smile was on his own lips. "Would you still want to date a guy with a criminal record and no college diploma?"

"What do you think?" Kurapika lay down next to him.

Chrollo cracked his eyes open, studying Kurapika's face. He smiled. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"No," said Kurapika. "If I was, I would have—"

"Not true," said Chrollo. "You're enough for me." He traced Kurapika's jaw.

Kurapika hesitated, and then shifted so that his head was resting against Chrollo's chest. "I guess I can live with that."

 _That's enough._

Chrollo's arms warm around him, his chest rising and falling, his hand stroking Kurapika's hair, and he knew to Chrollo, he really was enough. He was beautiful, he wasn't filthy, he was hope, and it radiated from Chrollo to Kurapika and he could believe it, even if all he had right now was a mustard seed. _It will grow. Just stay with me, water it._

"Can I call you my boyfriend?" Kurapika mumbled.

"Please."

Kurapika wrapped his arms around Chrollo. They both held each other, breaths in sync.

 _We can live._

* * *

A knock on her door. Komugi was over Meruem's, and Melody was still out at the hearing. Palm crept towards the door, peering through the peephole. _Milluki Zoldyck?_

She swung it open. "You left your dorm room. Again."

Milluki kept glancing around him like he was terrified. "Some kid who looked like a cat let me in."

"Why're you here?" She stepped back to let him in, shutting the door behind him.

"Illumi said to tell you. Chrollo got expelled."

 _Fuck_. Palm swallowed. A bitter laugh cracked through her lips. And yet, something inside her still burned. It was wrong. Her statement hadn't changed anything.

 _Good thing I have a backup plan_. "Guess I'm going to sue the shit out of the school, then."

"Huh?" Milluki gaped at her.

"I want Bizeff gone," said Palm. "And I don't care how hopeless it looks. Cheadle offered. I probably can't win a criminal case because too much time has passed but I can win a civil one. And you—your hacking—it can help. And I want Tserriednich expelled. Morena said she could help."

Milluki chewed his lip. "But that could be risky for you."

"You can sit; the couch won't eat you." Palm gestured and then flopped into an armchair.

"Well, you're so much braver than I thought," commented Milluki.

"Huh?"

"You really wanna go through that? The statement, but now this too?"

"No," said Palm. "But I will." She thought of Morena and wondered how much the girl knew.

Milluki let out his breath. "That's brave."

Palm didn't know what to say. She wasn't used to compliments. Usually people were just annoyed with her.

"Illumi said he wants to get custody of our younger siblings," said Milluki. "Kil, Kalluto, and Alluka too."

Palm snorted. "Good luck."

"He asked me to testify."

"Will you?"

Milluki hesitated. "He's annoying, but he wasn't ever—he only did what our parents wanted. I remember Dad pouring coffee down his throat. One time Dad thought I was eating too much and then laced all my food with laxatives. It wasn't funny."

"It doesn't sound funny," said Palm. "It sounds cruel."

"And then Mom took care of me and Dad yelled at her saying I was going to be too soft. But it didn't matter, because no matter how hard I worked, it'd never be the same as Killua. Everyone said it. Illu-nii and I are too much like our mother with no capacity for kindness or for the strength a Zoldyck needs. We've got her trash blood, but she at least was kind to me. She never was to Illumi. She said it was okay not to work as hard, to gain weight as long as I could do what I needed to do. One time I got Alluka to help me hack a new computer and Dad yelled at me not for the computer but because I talked to Alluka, but she was a cute kid up until the time she decided to stab one of the butlers, but that was because the butler hit Killua." Milluki stopped. "But you probably don't want to hear all that."

"You helped me," said Palm. And he was turning to her. No one else did. "I'll hear it, because I know it, too. No one thought you were special. No one noticed you. You'd do anything, but you couldn't earn it." _So you gave up._

 _I kept trying, trying too hard._

 _Why is it so hard?_

Milluki stared at the oriental carpet on the floor. "I guess."

"If you testify," said Palm. "I'll go with you."

He blinked. "I'll—if I say I hacked to help you, _I_ might end up in jail. I don't trust Morena; she seems shady."

Palm cocked her head.

"Okay, probably not, given the circumstances, but still."

"Up to you," said Palm, heart hammering in her throat. "Do you want to please your parents or not?" _Or—_

 _Or—_

 _Me?_

"You know none of what they did to you was your fault," she said.

"Same to you." Milluki's face reddened.

"You also know Killua feels the same way," said Palm. "He said it somewhat, and he didn't need to, not really. He wanted someone to help him and no one heard. Alluka acted out hoping someone would help her, would love her, and they didn't. Kalluto—"

"Are you a psych major?"

"No."

"You should be." Milluki laughed. "I wasn't very nice to Kil. I kinda took it out on him."

"Tell him, not me."

He scowled. "If you were to bring it up, it might help."

"Huh?"

"That's not why I came here, but I'm starting to think it's true. Ask him what he thinks about Illumi getting custody. He's gonna turn eighteen soon anyways so it's more about Alluka than anyone else, maybe Kalluto since they seem to be getting along now too, anyways. If Illumi or I ask him he might still—he'd tell me off to stick it to me and to Illumi I don't know what he'd do because—"

 _Because you're his brothers. And he still loves you._

Palm remembered Komugi teasing Meruem, how he used to be so surly, or so the rumors went. How every time she criticized herself, or said she wasn't enough, or implied she was a burden, he proved otherwise.

 _You're not a burden, Milluki._

 _I don't have to be, either._

 _I'm not. No person is_. She felt like she was waking up, breathing again. "Okay."

"Really?" His eyes widened.

She nodded.

"I'll help you," he said. "I'll use my hacking. I don't care."

She texted Melody and took an uber to Mito Freecss' house. Alluka let out a shriek and launched herself at Palm, hugging her, and Palm squeezed her back. She honestly wondered if Alluka truly was insane, or if she'd just snapped. No matter.

"Kurapika texted us," Gon said when she entered the house to find Killua and Gon bickering over snacks. "He told us about Chrollo."

"Sucks," Palm said, dropping down onto a couch cushion that was on the floor. "I had a visit from your brother, Killua."

"Kalluto?" exclaimed Alluka. "He was texting me—"

"No, Milluki."

"He left his dorm room?" Killua exchanged a glance with Gon.

"He liiiiiiikes you," sang Gon.

Palm threw a cracker at him. "He told me Illumi wants to fight for custody of you and Alluka, and Kalluto obviously though he pretty much already has it. But Illumi doesn't know if you would want that, or if you'd rather stay here."

Killua's eyes bugged. "What?"

"You know he contacted Cheadle about testifying against your parents. Milluki said he's going to do that, too." Palm tugged at the ends of her hair. She thought of Illumi, hiding himself, growing his hair to be like his dad, trying to be emotionless yet still controlling all because he wanted, he so wanted, someone to love him. He lashed out against anyone he saw cutting off his happy ending because if he couldn't be loved, he could at least be with someone.

 _You hurt him, though._

 _Did I hurt Professor Knov? Did I scare him_?

She still had a class with him. He was her advisor. But…

 _I think I want to be a psych student. And then law school._ She smiled.

"I thought he was happy in the house he was in now," said Killua carefully.

"He is," said Palm. "From what Kurapika says. Anyways, he might not even bring it up to you. He's scared."

"He should be," muttered Gon.

"Can I think about it?" Killua requested. He glanced at Alluka.

"If Illumi doesn't hate me anymore," said Alluka. "Then that's okay."

Killua gulped. His eyes filled.

* * *

Kurapika was sitting in Russian Literature, waiting for class to end in five minutes, when the door opened. _Security?_ He stiffened. Were they here for him, because he was still dating Chrollo?

"May I help you?" Professor Hill asked pleasantly. He was definitely grading Kurapika harsher than he had before now. Kurapika was guessing Chrollo insulted him in the meeting but couldn't recall exactly what he said when Kurapika asked. No matter. He was good enough to pass this damn class.

"Bet your boyfriend couldn't stay out of trouble," Tserriednich whispered. He leered at Kurapika. "Nice hickey, by the way."

Kurapika reached up to cover his neck, and then decided he didn't care. He glowered at Tserriednich. _You didn't win. Not in everything._

"So much for that project you did espousing justice," Tserriednich teased as Biscuit Kruger, the guard, conferred with Professor Hill. Tserriednich clapped his hand on Kurapika's shoulder.

"Touch me again and I'll break your nose for the third time this semester," Kurapika snapped, jerking away.

 _It's true, I don't know what justice is. I'm not sure it exists._

 _But I want to find out._

"Well," said Professor Hill. "Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou, these officers are here to escort you off campus."

 _What?_ Kurapika's eyes bulged. He turned in his seat.

A laugh froze on Tserriednich's face. "Excuse me?"

"You have accusations against you of a serious nature, and there's enough evidence that we've been instructed to remove you from campus immediately."

 _No way._ Kurapika gaped. His fingers were already fumbling for his phone, to text Chrollo.

"What accusations?" Tserriednich demanded. "Do you know who my father is? Call him!"

"We have. He didn't answer." Biscuit marched over, grabbing Tserriednich by the shoulder. "Get up."

He jerked away. "Don't touch me! You can't do this!"

"Do you hear that sound?" asked Shaiapouf. "That's the world's tiniest violin, playing just for you."

"Bye bitch," added Pitou.

"I most certainly can," Biscuit said. "Don't try me, kid. Get moving."

Tserriednich tried to shove her, and that was when Biscuit grabbed him by the waist, flipped him over a desk, and sent him crashing to the floor as she straddled his back and lashed handcuffs around his wrists. Kurapika scrambled to his feet. Pitou filmed.

"Holy shit," breathed Pouf.

Chaos erupted as Biscuit dragged a screaming, kicking Tserriednich out of the classroom. Vergei, another security guard, helped. Kurapika charged after them, still in shock.

 _This is real? This is really happening? This_ is _happening._

 _Justice._

Flickers of it. Moments, however unjust most of the world was. They kept him moving forward.

 _The world isn't destined to become just, but I'll do my best to move it in that direction, however I can. And when I'm tired, I can rest._

He watched as another pair of security guards escorted Bizeff off campus as well. Kurapika pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.

And across the quad he spotted three figures. Palm Siberia, her hair long and flowing in the breeze, Milluki Zoldyck next to her, and a girl with two scars on her face, all watching.

He couldn't want to see Chrollo and Oito. He broke into a run, racing off campus. Chrollo was waiting down the street, halfway to campus. Kurapika threw his arms around him.

"Excited much?" Chrollo grunted.

"Pitou filmed it and it was amazing," Kurapika responded. _But it's more than that._

 _There's hope. For mercy, and for justice._

"Oh look," commented Chrollo. "Is he being driven somewhere right now? That's a school security car; I recognize it."

Kurapika squinted. "Probably."

"Well then," said Chrollo. "How petty are you feeling?"

Kurapika smirked up at him. "Very."

Kurapika never saw whether or not Tserriednich was in the car, because he and Chrollo were too preoccupied making out on the side of the road.

* * *

The meeting would be tense. Illumi knew it, and still, he had to try.

"You can try," Killua said. "Alluka says it's okay."

And so he was ready. Cheadle and Mizaistom were determined to help him. Illumi tied his hair in a ponytail , adjusting his suit jacket. He chugged his third cup of coffee, and it wasn't even seven in the morning.

"I'm coming with you," Hisoka said, with his hair down and no makeup marring his cheeks. He looked almost normal.

Illumi scowled. He wanted to tell Hisoka he didn't need him. Because he didn't. But… it'd be nice.

They were meeting in his grandfather's office. Illumi clenched his fists as Hisoka drove them over, Milluki and Kalluto bickering in the backseat. Mizaistom met them there, Killua and Alluka with Gon and Mito Freecss.

Illumi swallowed when he saw them. He wasn't sure what the appropriate behavior was. Hug them? Nod and leave it to them? _I don't know how to do this_.

Alluka regarded him with a sad look in her eyes even as Kalluto hugged her. Killua waved at him. "Hi, Aniki."

"Hi." Illumi exhaled.

They wound up in a small, windowless board room. Across the table sat his father, mother, and grandfather. Fear sparked in Illumi's throat. He touched it, as if to reassure himself it wasn't burning.

"So," said Grandpa as everyone settled down. "Shall we begin?"

Illumi studied the pristine table, made of pure cherry wood. He ran his fingers along the edges and found it rough, but smoothed with finish.

"Yes," said Mizaistom. "We have a simply proposition. Sign over custody to your son Illumi, and we won't have to take the case to a judge."

Mom scoffed. "As if we would—"

"Or else both of your oldest sons, _and_ your youngest son, have prepared sworn affidavits not only corroborating the allegations Alluka and Killua have made, but detailing their own experiences of abuse."

Kalluto doubled over, crying into his hands. Alluka hesitated, as if not sure he would want her to comfort him. Killua reached out, holding Kalluto's shoulder. Illumi's throat ached.

"Illumi, no!" shrieked Kikyo. "You—"

"Me, too," Milluki snapped. "I exist. Hello."

"You disappoint me," said Dad, lasering Illumi with his gaze, the eyes so small like Milluki's and blue and almond like Killua's. There wasn't a single trace of him in Illumi. "All this to get Killua to love you, is it? Backing up his ludicrous claims—"

"It's not a lie," Illumi forced himself to say, devoid of emotion. "It's the truth."

"And why would they sign it over?" said Grandpa. "We can still—"

"I'll let you see Kalluto and Killua if they want to see you," said Illumi. "I won't let you see Alluka either way, and you can't see them without me present." This was part of the deal he and Mizaistom went over.

"You were just as—"

Illumi glanced over to Mizaistom in desperation. Hisoka narrowed his eyes.

"He's a college student," burst out Mom. "How could he—"

"I can graduate next semester," said Illumi. "Early. I have enough credits, and I have money saved up from my internships and live in a house where my situation is stable."

"With all those other—"

"The attic is being renovated as we speak. Killua and Kalluto can move in there, and a room is opening up on the girl's floor for Alluka." Since Machi was moving into Feitan's room, and Oito into Phinks's. "Other children already live there."

"If this goes to court," said Mizaistom. "The odds are not in your favor, and you'll likely be barred from seeing your children at all. Ever. This is really the best option you have."

"What statements are they preparing?" asked Zeno.

"You poured coffee down your son's throat," said Mizaistom. "Boiling coffee. You—"

"Huh?" Killua gaped at Illumi. He couldn't meet Killua's eyes.

"It wasn't that hot."

"I couldn't eat solid food for days," said Illumi. "My throat bled."

"And you still gave me coffee afterwards?" Killua managed. "You snuck it for me anyways—you—"

Illumi stiffened.

"See," said Hisoka, trying to be helpful. "You never owned your children. They've never been yours."

"So you feel like Killua owes you?" Dad demanded. "You've always been controlling, Illumi, desperate and narcissistic and lonely and unstable. That's why we passed you over as a future CEO—you simply didn't have the ability to think outside the box—"

His words reverberated in Illumi's mind. _It's not true, is it?_ It wasn't. It wasn't. It was. He shrunk.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," said Hisoka.

"You—"

" _Shut the fuck up!_ " Killua shouted. "You—you are—this is exactly what you did to Alluka, too! You keep telling her she's too this or too that and not enough and you just—" He balled his fists. "I will never see you again if I can help it! But Kalluto still—he loves you even if he's scared and he—if you—push this to trial, I will _hate_ you until the day I die!"

"Please don't push this to court," Illumi managed. "I don't care if you sign custody to me or to Mito Freecss, but one of us needs to—"

"What about you?" Milluki demanded, looking at Grandpa. " _What about you?"_

"Silva," said Grandpa, eyes focusing on Illumi. "Kikyo. It's a good deal. We won't win in court."

"We will if you—"

"I can't win this case. Don't fight when you can't win, remember—"

"We can point out that he did the same—"

Illumi bowed his head. _I can win this. I have to win this._ "I haven't been a good brother, that's true." His voice shook. "But I will be. I will be. I don't care what I have to cop to or do. I won't be what you wanted me to be, and I will not let you hurt them again. Not Alluka, not Kalluto, not Killua, not Milluki, and not me."

Gon smirked. Grandpa almost smiled.

"You just want control," Mom said. "You—"

"I want to get to _know_ them," Illumi shot back, getting to his feet. "I want them to—I don't even know them, you know? I don't even know any of them. I've only just been getting to know Kalluto." _I want to know Killua, Alluka, Milluki._ He glanced at Mito Freecss, at Gon, at Hisoka. "And I want people to hold me accountable for that, too. I'll get counseling. _I don't want to control them anymore."_

 _Please, I don't want to be too broken._

 _I might be._

He felt arms around his waist and glanced down.

 _Alluka?_

"I want to get to know you, too," she said.

* * *

"And so they signed over custody," Hisoka finished. "Not without threats, of course." He put his feet up on Netero's desk, knowing it would irk the president and finding that exhilarating.

"Zeno told me," Netero confirmed.

"You must have had a busy week, considering Tserriednich is up for expulsion and Bizeff has been placed on leave," commented Hisoka. "Sounds rough. But is it much harder or easier to do something right, or is it just the same energy as ever, just a new experience? Does it feel any better? See, I seldom do the right thing, so I wouldn't know, but helping Illumi really does feel nice."

Netero arched his eyebrows.

"Some things can work out," Hisoka said. "And some don't, but you keep trying regardless. Win some, lose some."

"A good philosophy."

"Great," said Hisoka. "So I can leave, because I'm wasting my time here. My grades are good enough and I know it so really I'm doing you a favor by showing up today. And I also wanted to tell you that your university is trash run by scum and I really hope Palm Siberia wins her lawsuit and takes you assholes down. Also the way shit is going she'll probably be living with us next year, too." Since he and Illumi would probably share their room, freeing up a space for Milluki and Palm, even though neither of them appeared to realize they were dating just yet. But they were. Hisoka could tell.

"You clearly haven't learned propriety," said Netero.

"That's why you like me." Hisoka winked, getting to his feet.

Netero sighed.

"If you're worried, I'm determined to get a 4.0 my final semester," Hisoka added. "Farewell."

Netero let him go. He had to know he was on Hisoka's shit list after what he did to Chrollo. Hisoka sauntered off campus, heading back to that stupid house.

Illumi waved from where he studied for an exam. "Milluki took Kalluto to see Mom today."

"How'd that go?"

"Dad gave him an earful about Palm, and Milluki said he didn't care."

"Wild. Really pushing the limits, that one." Hisoka dropped down next to Illumi.

Illumi scowled.

"You look cute like that."

"You're about to look stupid when I break your nose."

"Now why would you do that?"

"Because you're annoying me."

A clatter echoed outside, and chatter. Kalluto stuck his head into the room. Killua and Alluka stood behind him, visible through the open door. A smile crossed Illumi's face. Even cuter. "We're going to get coffee with Gon. Want one?"

"You are too young to drink coffee," Illumi said instantly.

"Bullshit."

" _And_ to swear!"

The three of them ran down the stairs. Illumi groaned. He turned to Hisoka, saw him laughing, and whacked him across the head with a pillow.

"My hair!" Hisoka protested.

Illumi glowered. "How did your meeting with Netero go?"

"Fine." Hisoka leaned back on his elbows. "I have no respect for the man."

"So, nothing's changed," said Illumi.

"Not true." Hisoka tilted his head up to Illumi. _I respect you._

Illumi smiled.

The door to Chrollo's room opened, and Kurapika emerged with the man, both of them flushed. Hisoka crossed his arms. "Well, well."

Kurapika rolled his eyes.

"You sure are quiet," Hisoka continued.

"I'll shut him up," Illumi offered. "He's in a good mood."

Chrollo shook his head. "I presume you're keeping your scholarship?"

"For one more semester, until I graduate," Hisoka confirmed. He examined a nail. It was chipped. Shit.

"I'm glad," Chrollo said. "Even if you drive me insane."

Downstairs, Hisoka could hear Machi laughing with Oito. He sighed. So Chrollo had finally realized that this house worked because of the people inside it. And the opportunities they'd give Hisoka for mischief were only increasing.

Well, limited mischief. He didn't want to push Illumi. Or make more enemies. There were other kids around now, too, to help with pranks. And if Kurapika moved in next year he could be fun to tease.

How strange, though, to think Chrollo wanted him here now, too. Hisoka wasn't used to anyone wanting more of him than what he could give them for a night. And now Illumi, and he was starting to wonder if others did care. He'd never even thought that was possible before. "Hey Illumi, do you want to fuck?"

"Yes," said Illumi, and he shut the door on Chrollo and Kurapika. Hisoka could hear them arguing over literature as they made their away down the stairs.

 _Teach me. Teach me how to care._

 _You care so much, too much._

 _I'll show you how to care for yourself, and you show me how to care for others. Deal?_

"I didn't really want to," said Hisoka. "I mean, we _could_. I don't really care. I just wanted to be alone with you."


End file.
